Once Again
by darich19
Summary: What if our two favourite people knew each other before all this? Before the world fell apart and everything made sense? Is it possible for them to have crossed paths? For Michonne to have stepped foot into Rick's world only to leave him with something that lingered inside him, dormant. [This is part AU and will include Richonne moments from the show and other members]
1. Fire

Rick couldn't understand why his heart, dormant in the cage of his ribs, suddenly decided to awake and thump against the bars, a clenched fist relentless with the amount of hits it threw.

As he stumbled towards the fence, legs weaker than they were when he had had his first encounter with the zombies, Rick squinted his eyes and turned his head, believing that if he changed his point of view just a little, the sunrays would not hit the vapour in the sky the right way and the image of her in front of him would disappear.

Inwardly, he scoffed at the thought, remembering the fact that was how rainbows were formed. However, it was the only thing he could think of as the greatest excuse for what he was seeing.

It was her in the flesh.

Bloodied and bruised.

He kept walking and flashed his eyes over her body, to the toning of her arms and her scruffy clothes and her locked hair and her backpack and the samuri beside it, seemingly one with her. Then, finally, to her hands where she held a basket full of baby formula.

Rick wanted to smirk, to laugh at the irony, because after all this time she was still his saviour, even when she didn't mean to be.

Building up the smallest amount of courage he had, he looked up at her fully, taking all of her in and the air from his lungs seemed to disappear.

His hands shook like an earthquake and he couldn't help but open his lips slightly, as if going to ask a question.

In fact he wanted to ask a question.

But, he knew he was just a man, with unstable emotions and with a mouth not fast enough and a stomach not tough enough to ask the questions and recieve the answers.

Their eyes met.

Hers were harder than his own.

He gulped.

Unlike the ones he had known before all this, the ones that imitated the dewy delight of a spring morning, the ones that mimicked the feeling of finally finally feeling the warmth of the summer sun, these were dark. Cold. As if they had experienced just as much loss as he had.

Zombies growled around her and rocked the fence, but she didn't move. She stood flawlessly, lips parted, breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling to the beat of the world around her. He watched her press a hand to her thigh, her face wincing, closing off the look between them.

Rick focused on her bloody hand, watched it raise back to the fence, it was a plea to come inside.

He wanted to allow it, to go outside straight away and allow her to come in. To finally be her saviour. But he had seen a lot, the people he had known, the person he had known so well - Shane - had changed and he'd grew with him.

This... well this had ended much earlier and Rick was sure, he didn't know who she was anymore.

Whilst he contemplated in his head, the growls of the zombies increased and he watched her stumble backwards, limping slightly. Looking at her surroundings, Rick watched as the intensity of her eyes increased whilst she seemed to calculate just how many zombies were now aware of her presense and how long she in fact had left within herself to fight.

Pulling out her samuri sword, Rick glanced at the definition of her muscles and watched on to see her run her blade through a zombies skull. He watched her stumble back again, the swiftness of her actions untouchable.

Come on Rick, COME ON! He thought to himself. We need that baby formula ... and her, a smaller, more afraid part of him added.

Luckily enough the voice of Carl rung like a light in the darkness, "Should we help her?"

Carl had noticed the pasty white his father had turned and he was not sure why, his father was not such a man to be afraid, he was brave... too brave to be scared by this woman who was stumbling in front of them.

Rick scanned the amount of zombies before them and pondered on how they would exactly rescue her without any injuries. We can do it.

He started to run to where he had placed his gun before all this had occured and glanced back to watch Michonne fighting off another zombie, the louder groans and moans showing that they were in fact hungrier... angrier moreso. Just before he turned away from her, pressing his heels deeper into the ground hoping that he could reach the gun fast enough, the hard outer shell started cracking just enough for him to see what she held inside... fear.

She had always said she never wanted to die. Peter Pan had been the number one thing they watched every time she came over.

Grabbing the gun, he signalled for Daryl and Hershall unable to speak whilst the lactic acid built up in his legs. Despite it all, he ran back, and returned just in time to watch her stumble and fall, her eyes fluttering and all the fight leaving her body so her body became limp.

Before Rick could fire a shot, Carl fired two and got rid of the zombies that threatened to take her life away with one single bite.

"Carl!" Rick said and recieved the keys for the gate in return. "Shit." He said as he opened it and watched what was in front of him.

He knew she had always been a storm, messy and beautiful, but she sure brought a lot of shit in her wake.

Rick blasted a shot then a few more, watching out for Carl behind him who fired some more. He was unable to savour this moment, there had only been one time he had touched her skin and it was simply because she had asked him to in a daze of feelings they agreed would never happen again.

Looking around again, he shot one more zombie and made sure Carl picked up the basket.

He kicked away her Samuri sword, afraid that if she regained consciousnous she would attack him in an instance, bewildered at the sight of him once again as he was sure it was just as daunting to her, seeing each other after all this time.

"Has she been bit?" Hershal questioned behind him.

Rick bent down and hesitated, looking at her like this, like the last time he had seen her, eyes closed and lips parted. But this time, she was less peaceful, she was covered in blood and he didn't know her.

He ran her fingers over her body, under her clothes, checking for bites. Running them over her thigh he found a slick coverage of blood. Scanning his surroundings, he turned around to Hershel, "Gunshot."

Picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, he walked back towards the gate.

Once closed he looked at Hershel, who seemed to be waiting for what he was about to say.

"It's her Hershal. It's Michonne."


	2. Started

**[A/N: OKAY GUYS WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO RUN THROUGH A FEW BITS OF THEIR LIFE FOR THE NEXT 2-3 CHAPTERS, SO BARE WITH ME]**

* * *

A frustrated, eleven year old Rick Grimes sat in his sixth grade maths class with worry lines creasing his forehead and a pencil between his lips.

Looking at the work laid out in front of him, at all the equations that he could find no way of working out, a sense of dread filled him and he thought about the fact he had numerous weeks until this grade was done. Until he could finally taste the freedom of a Summer and run free with Shane to their tree house.

It was the first day of sixth grade and being in middle school... it was nerve wracking. Not only was he a ball of nerves, but having his best friend beside him, who stood out vibrant and brash in his personality, meant everyone - he was sure of it - could see the obvious contrast between them.  
About to give up, drop his pencil and call it a day, the door opened, allowing a soft breeze into the classroom. The hot September didn't often allow for much of it, but when it did, you'd follow it's direction and hope it would last forever.

Looking up slowly, he found himself looking at a dark skinned girl, with straight black hair and about five foot in height. She was dressed smartly, knee high socks, a 'just-above-the-knee' length skirt and a polo shirt, finished with dolly shoes that allowed her to look as innocent as the flowers that bloomed in the beginning of Spring.

They all stood up at the sight of the a fellow teacher, who them dismissed them and told them to sit back down.

"Hello, new sixth graders! I hope you're enjoying your maths class with Miss Grady." Miss Grady smiled at the board and continued to write the date, the sound of chalk scraping against it irritating Rick just a little. "This-" the teacher said, pressing the young girl forward and making her stumble just a little. Rick felt a sense of admiration towards her. Despite the eyes that lay upon her, she still seemed to beam from ear to ear whilst releasing a sense of stubbornness and pride. She sent a threat out to everyone who dared to look at her it seemed, strong rooted like the trunk of Shane and his tree house, she mirrored it's ability to stand in the midst of a storm.

"-is Michonne. She just came from..." The teacher looked down expectantly.

"New York." Michonne said, smiling even more.

Rick noticed the way her teeth were pearly white and suddenly felt insecure about his own, closing his almost smiling mouth. Her smile seemed to be infectious.

"Well then, New York. So Miss Grady," She pushed Michonne forward just a little more, as if now tired of the introduction. "She's all yours."

The door closed and Miss Grady walked towards her, then looked around the room. "Now I want ya'll to make little Miss Michonne welcome... and you, can perch up right next to... Rick? Rick raise your hand." He did so and Michonne smiled once again, thanking the teacher then walking towards him.

Rick avoided eye contact as she sat down and went back to his work, wanting to look far more intelligent than he indeed was in the moment. He heard sniggers around them and shook his head, not wanting to take part in all of it. His Mum had called it 'ignorance', he liked that word, it seemed fitting to what his Mother had described to him about people.  
Sniffing the air, he found she smelt like petrol and apples and as weird as that sounded, it seemed to churn up his insides in a good way.  
Avoiding the awkward atmosphere that dared to set in, he found himself tapping his pencil against the table and biting his lip to make himself look more busy than he really was.

Miss Grady walked over and set a sheet in front of Michonne. "We do this test twice a week, on random days and the questions change every week, so you'll have to study every day, okay hun? The one who's test score increases the most throughout the year gets recognised and may even get a reward."

Michonne thanked her and got to work, writing instantly. He watched, fascinated, the answers snapping into her brain and being put on paper in a matter of seconds.

"You know," She began, not pausing her writing. "You could just ask."

Rick scoffed and changed his pencil from one hand to the other repeatedly. "I don't need help."

Now it was her turn to scoff at him. "Well how did you know that's what I was talking about?" Smirking, he shook his head and thought about her wit. He liked it. Around here, with the Southern Belles, they never spoke to him and if they did, it was dismissive with a dry sense of wit.

"Okay, I want you to drop what you're doing. Seen as it's the first day and this never, never happens again, I want to find out more about you. We'll go in columns, front to back, go on and tell me about what you want to be in the future." Miss Grady started at the front row, listening to every single reply and becoming even more animated with each. She squealed at the sound of the higher end jobs, often commenting, "It looks like we have some famous people in our midst ya'll."

Rick became bored however, the same old jobs being repeated. He had gotten used to being the only one slightly out of the ordinary, along with Shane, when asked about what they wished to do for the future. It had reached his turn, "Policeman." Miss Grady smiled and faced Michonne. "Laywer." She replied.

This answer had not been said yet and it was surprising. "Why is that?" Miss Grady questioned, leaning slightly.

"Well my Dad is a business man and we move a lot. I like moving. I go to new places. He says life as a lawyer is like that and once I watched a case on television that interested me. So that's why."

"Well then," Miss Grady sighed, "You and Rick can be partners... fixing crime!" She laughed at her own joke and then continued onto the rest of the people in the row.

The churning in Rick's stomach that had started at the smell of the city she brought with her begun again, only this time stronger, accompanied with sweaty palms and the bouncing of his one legs. It was his very own sign of nerves that his Mother seemed to get annoyed with time and time again. Placing his hand on his leg he stopped the bouncing and wiped off the sweat, before noticing that everyone in the class had finished giving their future plans.

"Alrighty. That was interesting, but we got some work to do." Miss Grady turned towards the board and pointed at a first person in the row and asked a question.

Michonne leant over to Rick and whispered, "I think you wanting to be a cop is cool."

He couldn't look at her for a second, but then returned the compliment. "I think you wanting to be a lawyer is cool too."

"Thanks... Rick." She turned her attention back to the board and stuck up her hand to answer a question, leaving Rick looking like a deer stuck in headlights at the sound of his name leaving her lips.

* * *

"So you've been to a lot of places then?" Rick asked, being pushed about in the busy hallway by the older kids. He wished Shane were here, he would have told them about themselves without fear.  
"A lot, really a lot. New friends. New schools. It's okay really." She replied, clutching onto the straps of her backpack.  
"I don't know how I would feel about that, this is my home, I guess." Rick replied, shrugging off the conversation the minute he had finished.

"Hey! Rick!" He heard Shane running up behind them, followed by displeasing moans of the people he probably pushed past. "Who's this?" He got between him and Michonne, resting a hand on both their shoulders.

"I'm Michonne." She smiled.

"You've got some pearly whites on you. I'm Shane, best friend of this here Ricky G!"

He punched Rick's shoulder and Rick punched him back, before they finally emerged from the seemingly never ending hallway and the sun licked them.

Pouring out of the hallway, they screened the gate and Rick shook his head. "Oh crap, my mum's here."

"Same." Michonne shrugged and walked, not one bit embarrassed, unlike himself.

When they reached their parents, Rick hissed at his Mother. "Mum, you weren't meant to pick me up."

"I know deary, you can walk on home, I just had to come see the talk of the town with her daughter, ya'll know how small it is here right?" She looked at both Michonne and her Mother. "This here's a cutey pie isn't she?" Michonne shook her hand and beamed up at her. "So Janet, where are you staying?"

"On that real nice street, just next to the park, look at me I've already forgotten the name!" Michonne's Mother was smart, elegant in fact and had the same smile as her daughter.

"Oh don't worry, I know! Come, we'll walk, is that okay? Go on home Rick, I'll be there soon. Goodbye Shane!"

Shane smiled accordingly and begun to drag his friend away, who watched as Michonne gave him a small wave and a smile, his heart thumping in his chest at the sight of it, whilst their mothers chatted like they were friends who had not seen each other for years.


	3. But

**(Our beautiful crew are now 15, so be prepared for a slight change in this chap! It's much longer - I didn't even realise it - because it's slightly important guys! ENJOY)**

* * *

 ** _10th Grade:_**

"Howdy partner!"

Rick closed his locker and turned to face a smirking Michonne, he shook his head, chuckling. "Michonne, we've gone over this already, I don't sound like that."

She rolled her eyes, bouncing herself off the locker she was leaning on. "Obviously you wouldn't know, no one knows what they sound like and even when it's played back to them they hate it."

Rick started to walk and Michonne followed closely, walking in silence but surrounded by the noise of lockers slamming, people chattering and phones buzzing, it was only a few seconds before Michonne interjected, "Are you still mad at me?" He shrugged, not watching her, but pretending to flip through the notes he had made for his English class next.

Admittedly, he wasn't that mad, just merely irritated for something that was a ritual between all three of them - him, Michonne and Shane - seemed to mean too little this time.

"Oh, come on Rick! Look, I'm sorry, do you want me to beg on my knees?" She pressed her hands together and stopped behind him, making him turn around and watch her. He didn't answer, but purposefully flicked his eyes to the floor then back at her. When Michonne's face contorted, Rick knew he had gotten to her. "If you expect me to put my knees on the floor, you'll be the one buying me milkshakes later." Michonne rejoined him and they began walking again.

"Oh," Rick cocked his head, the animated sarcasm in his voice making Michonne smile even more. "So we're going to get milkshakes later then?"

"Yes. It'll be my treat seen as I let you down." They had gotten to her biology classroom and stopped just beside it, no one in a rush as the bell hadn't threatened them yet. "You're not going to let me down right?"

Rick chortled, "That's your job not mine." Michonne punched his arm lightly and then leant in for a hug in which Rick gave.

"I'll see you later, officer!" She tapped his chest where a badge would go and opened her biology door. "Oh and I need to tell you more about why I was late." She winked at him and his heart sunk a little as she disappeared, he knew why she was late, but his throat would always close up in anger and sadness whenever she mentioned it.

It in fact had been mentioned a lot in the past month or two or longer - Rick didn't remember, more so, Rick didn't care really. It he hoped was merely a bump in the road, but she was she spoke about it was different to the others dimwits she had almost dated before. This seemed to be going somewhere.

The bell rung, telling Rick he would meet the wrath of Mrs. McDawl for being a few seconds behind. Walking and bumping into the hustle and bustle of everyone else who were in fact late, he found Shane with a confident cocky smile and the slowest pace of all the kids that filled the hall.

"Hey Ricky G!" He placed a hand on Rick's shoulder and Rick shrugged him off. "Oh shit, someone's unhappy, what's up shy one?"

"You really know how to pick at my flaws don't you?"

"Well what are best friends for? Had a go at Michonne yet? Or is she too loved up to take anything seriously?"

The sea of students lessened now and Rick bought his voice lower, not wanting people to know his plans. "Well, actually, she apologised and offered to go get a milkshake later." Honestly, at that moment, he regretted telling Shane in case he came. Him and Michonne rarely got time together and he was sure that if they did... "Bummer. I've got football practice. But listen to me Rick, I can see that little twinkle in your eye, it's the same twinkle I had when Nellie Haywood made out with me in the toilet last term. But you can't have that with her, you gotta let her go. Since sixth grade, you've been-"

"Sixth grade!" Rick hissed and corrected.

Shane dismissed him and carried on, "You've been pining over her and-" Walking past them was one of the most pretty girls in school, just a grade higher. Her once over of Shane, followed by a slightly smug smile had caught his attention. "We'll finish this later Rick. Hey! Wait up! I saw that look!"

 _Finally,_ Rick thought, _I can breath!_

* * *

"UGH!" The class moaned together, the drawing back of chairs so the students sitting on them could lean over even better on their desk to sleep was a tell tale sign that no one absolutely no one wanted to do a single thing regarding Romeo and Juliet.

Rick watched on around the class as Mrs McDawl attempted to shush them and finish writing on the board, she completed it with a nice scrape of her nails against it in order to reach total peace in the classroom.

"Now, I'm going to try and get through this topic as quickly as I can. Since ya'll seem so displeased with it, I'll try not to take it personally. You hear?" The class all mumbled in recognition of her words and she smiled. "Now seen as ya'll had decided to take so long, we only have... Willie, tell me how long we have left of class?"

"Thirty one minutes Mrs!" Willie shouted from the back, gaining sniggers from the rest of his classmates. Rick had heard all the nicknames for him and tick tock, he agreed, was the best one he had heard. Surprisingly, Willie wasn't bullied for his constant accuracy when it came to time keeping, but instead his voice was the voice you heard most in the hallway, 'Willie, what time is it?" 'Willie how long of lunch is left?' 'Willie how long until our history papers are due?'

As Mrs McDawl continued talking about Romeo and Juliet, Rick sunk off into his thoughts, allowing himself to dull out the scenery and create a new one. He often found himself imagining his future, with a bright sheriff uniform and - although he never admitted it to Shane who constantly spewed the belief that he, himself, would not get married - with a wife. Sometimes, he'd scoff at his own thoughts, blaming his mother's records and love filled country sounds that spoke about star filled nights and dancing on floors, bare foot, skins dipped in moon light and the atmosphere lively like moonshine.

"Rick, what do you think on the matter?"

Shaking himself out of the state, he perked his head up. "Pardon me?" The class sniggered and he found himself wanting to sink lower into his seat.

"What do you think about Romeo and Juliet?" Rick looked at her wearily and she chuckled. "Tell me your honest thoughts."

Looking around, everyone seemed to be staring at him intently, as if that was an invitation for him to display what the rest of the class was indeed thinking. He was no Shane in the way he could shamelessly say, 'It was shit', but he sure would find a way to try and display that.

"Honestly, it's stupid to commit suicide over love." Leaning back in his chair, he shrugged. "Especially in that situation."

Mrs McDawl leant onto her desk and rested her hand on her chin, "How so?"

He could feel his cheeks getting hotter, he hadn't mentally prepared himself for this question and if he stumbled on any words... "Well, I mean, come on. They had each other. It was not as if Romeo was looking from afar or the middle man."

"Really?" Mrs McDawl smiled. "So if he was, then it'd be acceptable for him to commit suicide over love?"

"Well, no, not really? He'd survive and as it goes, he'd probably get the girl." Rick said, imagining himself in the scenario. Imagining himself getting the girl. "It'd just take time."

Mrs McDawl made a sound close to a squeal and clapped, "Well we've found your homework. You are going to write an alternative ending to Romeo and Juliet, in which Romeo is the middle man and you can either pick Rick's ending or... my ending."

Rick returned back to his thoughts and this time they were distorted and the image of his wife was no longer what he wanted.

* * *

"Hey Rick! Where's Shane?" They had met right outside by the gates and Michonne wore the same bubbly smile she wore at the end of each school day, no matter what. It was mesmirising after so many years that her teeth were just as pearly white as the first time she arrived here. When he mentioned it, she would shy away and tell him to stop being such a guy. 'You don't even mean that! If I could blush, I'd blush! You're such a guy.'

"He has football practice and a few girls to catch up with." He had also reminded him relentlessly to not get his hopes up, alone time doesn't mean home time and that he had another option, Lori.

You see, Lori was a girl in his maths class, who smiled like the day break. Her hair hung long past her shoulders, dark brown and flowing. Everything she done was perfection, all her equipment was pressed together tightly in a straight line, straighter than her pencil skirt she seemed to wear every monday, as if it was a constant reminder of what she was... straight, lean and perfection.

It was not to say that was a problem, girls like that, they achieved the best. They were one of the best. You'd hear their names in mother's mouths even when they weren't about and they, even if they didn't know it, were secretly adored for their humbleness and excellence. But most of the time, when Shane mentioned her name, all he could feel was a soft burn down in his lower region because of course, like every fifteen year old boy, he desired her just enough to be turned on by thoughts of her, but it done nothing to his heart. Matter of factly, Shane would only mention it because he said he saw Lori looking at Rick like he was hottest - his own words - 'lover boy' she'd ever seen. Funnily enough, Rick allowed himself to feel flattered although he didn't believe it and would often now avoid her, to save himself the embarrassment of the scenario that he would talk to her with even such a slight belief she did indeed like him and it was not so.

If Rick thought about it enough, he knew he could like her, like her enough to date her but she... she missed something and when he set eyes on Michonne, he found it.

He watched her walk in front of him, the swaying of her straight hair as she walked and the way she often turned her head to the side, looking across the road and waving at whoever she knew. The sun kissed her skin and she bloomed like a sunflower, standing tall and original amongst all the others walking on the same path.

"What are you staring at? You know I have eyes in the back of my head?" She commented, not turning around. Rick looked at every where but her, squinting slightly in the sun.

"Isn't the weather wonderful today?" He mentioned and heard her laugh in return, he sped up his walk to be right beside her and hear it even better. Rick couldn't remember when he learned to love it, but it was a slow and unrecognisable process. He didn't know how to explain it but like the situation of listening to a song once, you kind of like it, but you're not hooked. Then you listen to it more and more and eventually, you learn it off by heart and it's your favourite song ever without understanding why.

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Michonne stopped, recieving a few hisses from everyone around them. Rick apologised and Michonne jiggled excitedly on the spot. "Raced." She clapped her hands and Rick sighed, his body instantly drooping. "Don't sigh! The milkshake parlour is only two blocks away."

"Exactly, two blocks Michonne."

"The longer you stand here moaning, the more likely you are to lose."

Before he could answer, she was running ahead of him and he was then chasing the girl of his dreams.

* * *

The milkshake bar was practically empty and they were greeted by the owner, a nice, small old woman that seemed to have grown up with them. She smiled, having seen them for almost four years now and loving them as regulars.

They had found this place a few months after Michonne came. It had opened up earlier that year and both their mothers thought it would be a good idea to go. Of course Shane came along and when they were all together, sipping chocolate milkshakes, they dubbed it their meeting place or as Shane liked to call it, their 'other home'.

It was a ritual of theirs to come here every Monday and Friday, to rub off the extra steam from school. Michonne had missed their Monday meet up yesterday and the owner had noticed, "Ya'll never come here on a tuesday? Did lil Miss mess up the plans?"

Michonne smiled as she picked up their already made drinks and passed Rick his, the look Rick gave her made her want to punch him in the arm. "Yes I did." She laughed and placed the money on the counter, "Keep the change, I'm feeling good today."

"Well I hope you keep feeling good!"

Rick and Michonne found their normal spot, right at the back by the biggest window of the shop. Michonne had actually picked it, saying she liked watching the world go by as she enjoyed the feeling of fun.

"So," She began after a few sips of her drink, "I heard a lot of complaints about your Romeo and Juliet class. You feeling the boredem, eh?" Raising an eyebrow, she kicked him under the table, making him jump slightly at the jolt that went through him.

"Can you keep a secret?" He leaned in, her mirroring his action. When he was close enough, he hesitated then licked her cheek, making her scream and jump back, wiping her cheek. "Don't ever kick me again, Michonne!" Rick finished with an evil laugh as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Rick Grimes, you are one immature boy! Who'd have guessed, a wanna-be police officer arresting people by putting them into a state after licking their cheeks." They both chuckled at the image then sipped their milkshakes.

Eventually, both their heads turned towards the window and they watched people walk back and forth. Rick was constantly aware of the shifts of her hand and her tilting head and her pressed lips against the straw.

She cleared her throat, grabbing his attention. "Sometimes, I think about staying here forever. I can imagine it. You know city life? I know you don't, but city life is so damn busy. You're always in a rush there. Here though, everything is so patient with you and so kind. You could dance with no shoes on at a park and no one woul think much of it, it's so delicate here. I can see it, a husband, a child and as weird as it sounds, a book club." She laughed loudly, slapping the table a little and Rick shifted his eyes away from her.

Whenever she spoke about her future, her life possibly being here, he imagined her doing it all, she could do anything she wanted. But sometimes his brain would trick him and he'd imagine her going home to a man in a sheriff uniform with a face just like his and a voice just like his. But reality kicked in and although her mouth had stopped moving and he wanted to lean over, land a finger on it before he placed his lips there, he knew he had to play his part, "With Mike, right?"

Michonne looked away from him then and he himself was well aware of what that meant, "I'm so glad I can't blush. You go red sometimes yourself, especially when we mention Lori." He shook his head and slurped up the last of his milkshake. "She doesn't like me Michonne."

"That's not what I've heard." Michonne finished hers too and sunk back into the chair, looking smug. Rick shook his head again and avoided eye contact until Michonne leant in. "You know, I don't think he likes me back. Yesterday, on that... date? Well, he didn't even hold my hand."

"Who?" Rick teased her, causing him to recieve a slap on the hand in return. She took his hand then and turned it over so his palm faced her, she ran her index finger in a circle motion around it, not looking up at him whilst he sat there afraid she would hear the beating of his heart.

"I don't think he likes me Rick. He's the only boy I've been worried about." The lack of confidence in her voice made him take his hand back so she would look at him.

"He likes you. Everybody does, even if they don't know it."

She laughed, "Sure Rick. Like you." He laughed along, a weak laugh, imagining it. "I bet we look like a couple sometimes, can you imagine that?" Her eyes were bright and he was sure she was leaning in and he was sure he had her, he had her right now, Mike was no issue, he was here, they were here. "Too bad it just couldn't be!" She imitated shivering. "It'd just be too weird."

And Rick was left not knowing what to do with himself and how to compose himself again.

* * *

It was two in the morning and a frustrated Rick sat with a pen and a sea of scrunched up paper beside his desk. He couldn't think straight and every time he attempted to write the ending to Romeo and Juliet, something inside of him would tell him it was wrong, that lies weren't worthy of writing. The truth was why everyone got where they got in this life.

His stomach was in knots and his mind was as shambled as shattered glass on a street corner. Earlier he had left in a rush, the worried face of Michonne plaguing him and her repeated question of, "Did I say something Rick?" that was left unanswered made him feel even worse than he did. His head hurt, his tongue was dry and he wanted to sleep. But he needed to get this done.

Why was he trying to fight it? He knew the reality. After today, things wouldn't be the same. He needed to heal. Stupidly, Rick had put his heart on the line and unbeknownst to Michonne, she had crushed it. Rick couldn't be mad at her, he wasn't. He just wasn't good for her, he had the potential to be the rain on her parade and he couldn't take not being the reason of her smile.

Looking down at the paper in front of him, fresh from lies, he decided he would write the true ending. The build up to the end was basic, he wanted to finish off drastically, he wanted to finish with the painful truth.

 _Romeo doesn't win._

 _He doesn't get the girl_

 _He dies slowly whilst watching Juliet be happy from afar._


	4. It

A/N: Kind reminder that I have shifted some scenes about. I've kept the same basis but felt as though I wanted to focus to more zone in on Michonne and Rick.

* * *

"Carl get a blanket!" Rick shouted, nearly out of breath from carrying Michonne so far. Dead weight was not something he loved carrying about, although the zombie apocalypse had put his body to the test, he could only endure so much. "Beth! Water!" He huffed, "and a towel." Carl placed down the blanket in front of him and Rick kneeled down to rest Michonne on it. "Woah, woah, woah. Easy now."

Putting her Katana to rest - and secretly embarrassed at how the weight of it had seemed to slow him down whilst it seemed she carried it with such ease - he grabbed the bottle of water from Beth. Michonne shifted beneath him, bloodied and looking in and out of consciousness. Unscrewing the lid and pouring a slight amount over her chest, he watched her eyes flutter and gulped small enough so no one would notice the break in his breath.

Restless in her wake Rick hushed her, placing a shaking hand over her, a small part in the back of his mind bringing up all of his past feelings and making him afraid to touch her. But right now, she didn't look fragile, in this state, she looked hard and unbreakable, like a dark cloud filled day that showed no let up of rain.

Once her eyes fluttered open she didn't look at him, the frantic motion of them left him feeling confused and in a haze, almost forgetting where he was. Rick couldn't focus on the slickness of her chest from the water, but just making sure she didn't escape.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." He repeated over and over again, waiting until the rise of her chest lowered. "Who are you?" Rick asked, knowing the answer. But with all the eyes watching, he didn't want all the questions to follow after. He wasn't ready to relive the past in the form of answers.

As an answer to the question Michonne looked away from him and reached for her Katana, which Rick kicked away with frustration. He could feel himself becoming irritated with her difficulty already and had to remind himself that it was only his old emotions still angry from the closure he didn't recieve.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said, grabbing her arm and turning her over. Her lips pressed together as he stared at her and hardened his grip. Unlike before, he was in charge here, he had the future in his hands. "Unless you try something stupid first, alright? Wanna tell us your name?"

She raised herself up them, propped herself on one arm and stared at him, confused at the question. Michonne opened her mouth, "But you-" She whispered and was interrupted by an urgent Rick, an erratic look in his eyes. "You wanna tell us your name?" He whispered again. Slowly, but surely, she was getting the idea that no one here knew Rick, that no one knew who he had been or what he had grown to be. They must just have known him after this world fell apart. Staring at him, she saw everything she left behind. The blue eyes, the soft lips, the strong hands. She remembered it all and with an inward hiss, looked away from him, the lump in her throat not allowing her to say her name.

Standing up, Rick waited whilst everyone packed up their stuff. No words had been passed between them and the tension in the room was high, he could feel it and he was sure she could. They never broke their gaze, their past running through their minds and the sick twist of irony finally bringing them together after all this time, in such a situation that requires so much forgiveness but ruthlessness, tempted them both to break a sweat in the moment.

Pushing the Katana towards the sky Rick spoke to her, "We'll keep this safe and sound. Doors are all locked, you'll be safe here. We can treat that."

Still, Michonne didn't speak and Rick felt as though nothing was getting through to her. He understood though, with the way she was being treated, sat here tied to bars, unable to move. For the first time in forever, they had switched places. While he had been stuck in the prison of them, the constant reminders of who they were surrounding him every day he would get up to work and pass the school, she had been free. Now here he was, able to move about, able to leave her in a room and forget she was there, while she was stuck remembering that he was the one who saved her and brought her here. And although it nagged at him, to let her go and show her the prison, show her what he had made home, he couldn't. Not yet. Things still hurt. Lori still hurt. She still hurt.

"I didn't ask for your help." She finally said through gritted teeth.

"Doesn't matter. We can't let you leave here."

With that, Rick walked towards the open door that Daryl closed behind him and they both started their daily routine of checking around the prison.

"Didn't you feel that man?" Daryl questioned.

"What, Daryl?" Rick replied, rubbing a hand over his face.

"That tension. It was like you knew each other." Daryl jingled the keys in his hands, whistling a random tune that just didn't fit.

Rick didn't feel well enough to answer.

* * *

"Rick, what are we going to do with her?" Hershal asked, looking as Rick attempted to find good soil in the field. Rubbing the back of his head, Rick thought to himself about giving a sufficient answer. "Do you trust her?"

About to open his mouth, Rick closed it again, unsure of whether he did. He had trusted her. But the past didn't matter any more, it was the now, he couldn't carry on holding onto old grudges. He was different now. More assertive, more aware, he was in charge of the people that called this place a pit stop a home a base a camp a... whatever. Right now, he was more of a man that he felt he had been the first time he held Carl and that meant making sacrifices, that meant making decisions.

"I don't know her. So I don't trust her."

"Or are you just fuelled by your ego?" Hershal laughed and hopped over to him. "Listen Rick, from what you've told me, people don't get second chances like this. They wouldn't even get it in the normal world. You've got a kind heart. Use it. And your brain." Hershal tapped his chest before giving him a wrinkled old smile. As Hershal returned to the prison, Rick looked at the scenery in front of him, at the half dead zombies and the baking sun and he shook his head. How had she gotten here?

* * *

"We can tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water and send you on your way." This was his heart speaking, allowing the comfort of things he knew were hard to find, food and water scarce but needed, he would give enough to have her survive until he was sure she could stand on her own two feet.

Behind the strong voice that left him was a cowering one, one that he knew would ache at the sight of seeing her go. But, now he had a child... two in fact. With so much loss hanging in the air and with so much he had seen, it was too much to risk for something he had attempted - and nearly - buried a long time ago. The hard look on her face didn't move, neither did any muscle on her body as her hand held her bullet wound. She showed no sign of emotion or gratitude and it hurt to see the girl that had shone so bright, with 'thank you's' and delicate skin like this. It hurt because he was sure, in the reflection of the dim light, she could see the same change in him.

"But you're going to have to tell us how you found us, and why you were carrying the baby formula?" Now his brain took control, leadership qualities boomed, he had to find out just how she knew.

In the short moment she decided to speak, they conversed. A spring of hope lit up in the room as she mentioned an 'asian boy' and 'a pretty girl'. Rick could hear Hershal speak, but couldn't focus, asking his own questions on auto pilot and looking at the way she had changed. Her grown chest, her fuller lips, her locked hair. Michonne had always spoken about it, but he didn't believe she would have the guts to do it. It suited her better, he'd admit... actually, anything could suit her, her face could work with anything.

At the moment he saw anger raise through her, a stroke of his childish self started to cower and be afraid at the upset he was causing her. Feeling weak, he reached out, "Tell us where our people are now!" Rick grabbed her wound, squeezing it tight, blocking out her rage filled cry at him. It was what was needed at the moment.

"Don't you ever touch me again!" Michonne raged through gritted teeth and Rick stepped closer to the finger she pointed, watching her. Wanting to grab her hand, press it down to her side and tell her that he was sorry, it was what needed to happen and that it wouldn't happen again. He wanted to say that it hurt to hear, although it was his fault, and that it reminded him of the time she had wanted him to touch her more.

In a quick matter of seconds her and Daryl were in front of him, war about to start as Daryl pressed his crossbow right next to her face.

Feeling the pressure in the room, Rick raised his hand on top of the and pushed it down, trying to calm her. The rising of her chest gave away her every feeling, "Find him yourself!" She spat the word 'him' with so much venom he was sure the spit that flew would sizzle the cement floor.

Sharing a look, they didn't break eyes off each other as Rick stepped in the place Daryl's crossbow had been. "You came here for a reason." In all the hullabaloo, a part of Rick wished he could call it fate, but fate, the universe, the world had played tricks. His heart was not steady, neither was his mind, untasteful in its timing, the universe had given him what he wanted most at the wrong time.

Michonne's face seemed to soften, enough for her mouth to open and converse with him just enough for him to learn about the town and the governer just a little bit more. He cocked his head and stepped closer to her, entranced by her voice just a little bit more. It sounded so familiar, like an old song he hadn't listened to for years. Despite all that had unfolded in a mere hour or two, he found it settled him enough to open up just enough of him not to doubt her. '"We could slip our way through."' caught him off guard, making him lower his head and smirk just a little. The ease of which she used it, that word, 'we', inclusive, she had already wormed her way in here and he didn't want to correct her.

* * *

After Hershal had fixed her wounds and Rick had kissed the heads of his two children, he went down to her cell. The keys jingling in his hands as the nerves built up in his veins. Opening the cell, the dim light didn't allow for him to see much and his footsteps echoed a little bit more than he liked.

"Michonne?" He said, placing the water bottle near the opening of the door. "I bought you water." There was a certain softness in his voice that Michonne found. She stepped out from the shadows, arms crossed and the dim lighting exaggerating the plain look on her face.

"You don't know my name, remember?" She walked towards him, stopping just millimetres from him, then bending down to pick up the bottle. He held his breath as she stayed down there far too long before standing back up and walking away from him.

He didn't know what to say, except that she had no right to say things with so much spite, especially since she was the one that left him broken and bitter for a good portion of his earlier life.

"I never thought I'd see you again." He said.

"I'd never thought you hurt me."

"Don't, Michonne." There were things he didn't want to open in the middle of the night with his kids sleeping just blocks away, with his wife dead.

"I heard Carl, in all my daze? Is that your son? You had always said you wanted a Carl..."

"I said it once Michonne, you remember when."

She shifted then, the pressure on one leg too much. "Stop saying my name, you don't know it."

Rick ran a hand over his face and scratched his beard. "Thangs are different now." The silence recieved from Michonne acted as a reply. "I have to think of you differently. I have kids now."

"Kids?" Her voice sounded weaker, hurt even, but Rick didn't allow his walls to fall. Who he was now isn't what he was then and she had to see that. That he had grown fine without her there. But he found himself wanted to break down in front of her, there was a certain air between them that threatened to destroy all his walls and tell her about everything she had missed. About the days his mother had talked about her's and the parties and the kisses and how Shane never changed one bit and then how Shane changed, he wanted to talk about Lori, but the lump that formed in his throat wouldn't allow him to for a very long time. Then he wanted to talk about Carl and how that boy had seen things no boy should see, he wanted to take her hand and show her his new baby girl, who's eyes mirrored the sky and tell her just how much he had survived.

"Right now, to everyone else, we are strangers. We are Michonne. We are not the same two people who knew each other. Thangs have changed." He turned his back to her, grabbing the bars of the door. Attempting to compose himself before he went to lay in his bed and had to keep quiet enough not to wake Carl.

Rick closed the door and locked it, sighing heavily. Before he could turn, he heard footsteps and looked up at Michonne through the bars. "Rick." There was his name, in her mouth, sounding just the same. "I-" She looked at him, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry I left you."


	5. Died

"Howdy partner!" The chirpy voice owned by Michonne rung as Rick closed his locker, purposely keeping a straight face and fighting the urge to smile at her fake accent. A flicker of worry crossed Michonne's face as she saw no reply leave Rick's mouth and his face stay in the same, bored state. "Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" The small tang of hurt that set itself in her voice tugged at the strings of Rick's heart, but like an idiot, he didn't reach out and reassure her that everything okay. Instead, he looks up and around her, avoiding the question. The awkwardness in the atmosphere meant he could see Michonne shifting on her feet, unsure of what was in front of her.

"I need to go to class." He eventually said, not wanting to look her directly in the face - thank goodness she was shorter than him, he thought, because looking into her eyes would be a curse right now. Rick wanted it back, the feelings, the jokes, the chemistry they had before yesterday. In fact, he hated himself because the reason the chemistry was broken was his own fault. More than friends? How could he ever think that could happen. Like a broken record, the images of yesterday had played on his mind until he fell asleep and it had continued when he awoke from his slumber. They set something in his stomach, something sickening and churning, something that hurt too much to comprehend or deal with.

"Well okay Rick... Rick? Isn't your class that way?" Michonne called as Rick walked in the opposite direction. In that moment, Rick had seen Lori by her locker, struggling with a handful of books. As much as his feet wanted to stay beside Michonne, he couldn't face the atmosphere and the words he knew would tumble out if he did.

 _Why can't **we** be?_

 _I think of you and me all the time, don't you? Are you lying?_

"Hey, Lori." Rick said, causing her to jump and let go of a few books in her grasp.

"Damn." She whispered.

"Don't worry, I've got them." Rick hurried to pick them up and pressed them into her hand, receiving a warm smile from her.

"Thank you." She replied, watching him wearily. "So what brings you to my dear old locker?"

Rick didn't exactly know. Maybe it was because she needed help. "Your books, you were struggling a little." That was a lie, that was a downright lie and Rick was well aware it was the minute the excuse left his lips. He needed to escape Michonne... he needed to focus on something... someone new in the mean time.

"Well aren't you a Prince, eh?" Her laugh was like a breeze and Rick found himself taken aback, so much so he couldn't look at her face or he knew his blushing face would give him away. Looking past her, he saw Michonne standing with a confused, distant look on her face. It almost mirrored melancholy. Ripping his eyes away from her - that stung horribly - he focused a brighter smile at Lori.

"I could be." The laugh between them died soon enough and the bell dared to ring at any minute - well, at least Rick hoped it would. Glancing over to where Michonne was standing, he was met by the image of a smile creasing her face as Mike held her hand and his thumb ran over the surface of palm. The way she looked so carefree with him set something in Rick's heart, but he wasn't there to ruin things, he knew his place. He was the Romeo that didn't win the girl.

"You know, your mother always talks highly of you around my house. Wait until I tell her this." Both their mother's seemed to get along like the best of friends, most weekends helping out at lemonade stands and bake sales set by the town to raise funds for school or whatever else the adults thought was needed in this small place called home.

"She speaks too much." Rick rubbed the back of his head just as the bell rung. The held breath in the pit of his lungs released and he gave the biggest half smile he could. "Well, what class you got?"

Lori looked at the biology book in his hands and pointed at it. "I'm right behind you."

They walked together and avoided the big rush of a crowd that had formed, ready to run to all their classes. Trying to keep his eyes low so he wouldn't have to notice the beam that was Michonne as he walked past, he nearly avoided it, he nearly did.

"I like you, Michonne." Mike said as Rick walked past, causing him to turn and look just as Mike placed a finger under Michonne's chin and lift her face so her mouth met his.

* * *

"I think she got the message." Shane slid his plate onto the table and sat down smoothly.

"What message?" Rick grumbled, stabbing at the chips on his place.

"I'm no clown, you can't fool me." Rick raised an eyebrow and smirked at Shane's analogy. "She spoke to me, says she feels like you're avoiding her. I'm guessing yesterday you realised."

Rick shrugged and kept staring down at his plate, trying to listen to Shane's conversation hard enough so he wouldn't have to hear the laughter of Michonne from the other table, where she was situated with Mike and a few their friends. If he turned around, he was sure he would see Mike with his arm still around her shoulder, confident in his way of having her.

Shane shook his head. "Sometimes Rick, I think you would have stood a chance."

Rick chuckled and looked up. "You're trying to make me feel better, or worse. Pick."

Shane shoved a chip in his mouth. "Honestly, brother, there are more fish in the sea. But when I say sea, I mean out of this small town if you ever leave. Here though, you still have one fish in the pond."

"Shane."

"Seriously, Rick. I saw you this morning!" He banged his hand on the table and leant forward. "You're finally joining me in becoming a man!"

Rick pushed his plate away and leant back in his chair. "Shane, we're fifteen!"

"But I look seventeen, I've been told. So I'm technically there. You're the on lagging behind." Shane shrugged and slurped on his drink. "Anyway, you got that in the bag. Us big boys are envying you right now."

Ignoring all that was being said to him, Rick was still able to hear the happy voice of Michonne's just metres behind him. It stood out in all the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria and he wanted it to go. It was making it hard not to walk there and sit down with her, or even invite her over, have it be them three.

Shane watched the look on his face sink deeper and deeper and couldn't take it. "You know I've got your back, brother. But if you need a break, take it. It doesn't mean her and I will stop being friends though, but I'll make it easy on you."

"I got it Shane, thanks."

"Well great! Looks like my job is done, now..." Shane stood up just in time to be greeted by the girl Rick had seen him chase the day before. Shaking his head at the ecstatic look at Shane's face as he held the girls ass, Rick waved him off and chuckled at the wink he received in return.

Not wanting to sit like a loner in the big cafeteria, Rick stood up to put his plate and cutlery away, avoiding looking at the table that Michonne sat on.

On his way back, however, his mission was stopped short as Mike shouted his name. "Rick?! It's Rick isn't it?" He heard him whisper after, possibly to Michonne.

Turning around, Rick tried to assemble the most bored look on his face but he felt the ting of a smile once his eyes flickered over Michonne sitting, biting her soft lips at what was laid out before her. She was probably thinking this would turn badly, the normally _good mood_ of Rick Grimes gone and for all she knew, that could bring mayhem.  
"Yeah, yeah it is." He saw Michonne perk up as his voice didn't match his bored face.  
"Well Michonne here," Rick watched as Mike poked her sides and made her squeal just a little. "Isn't telling me here favourite colour, can you tell me? Be cool man."  
 _ **  
**It's orange._  
 _She loves it because it's bright._  
 _And reminds her of Summer more than yellow does._  
 _It's OrAnGe!_  
 _ **It's ORANGE.**_

"To be honest, I have no idea." Rick shrugged, acting _cool_ , "I'm pretty sure if you poke her enough, she'll tell you however." The table laughed as Mike poked her one more time, taking Rick's advice and receiving a squeal from her. "But I'm gonna go, I have some..." He held the note as he looked around the room and found Lori sitting comfortably on her own, book in her hand and taking a dainty bite out of a chip. "...business to attend to." Michonne followed his eyes and her eyebrows burrowed together, but she quickly wiped the expression from her face.  
Waving them off, feeling exasperated from the amount of false socialising, Rick walked over to Lori's table, hands sweating just a little at the thought of all the things that could go wrong. When he slid onto the chair, he almost toppled off but played it cool enough to look like it had been planned that way.  
"So the Prince has returned?" Lori said, looking over from her page. She pushed her plate of food towards him, "Chips?"  
Rick shook his head and patted his stomach. "I've eaten enough and when a teenage boy says that, they mean it."

Lori giggled and pulled her plate back, placed her book on the table and closed it only after creating a doggy ear fold at the corner of the page she was reading. Placing a hand under her chin, she leaned forward, "So Rick Grimes, how has your day been so far?"  
He leant back into his chair, afraid that if he leaned forward, his elbow would miss the table and he'd nearly fall into her face. "Boring. Sometimes I really hate biology."  
"I can see that, you hardly ever put your hand up."  
Rick shrugged and pulled his chair in more, if he were to lean up, he'd have to make sure all possible wrong scenarios were executed. "It's just, Mr. Mae isn't a great teacher, he drags it on too much and then I get all confused."  
"I thought Michonne would help you. She seems great at it." The drop of Michonne's name didn't do too well for him, he felt himself slouching. It brought back the reason he had come here.  
Attempting not to break in front of Lori, he pulled every piece of courage and lent forward, not looking around the room - matter of factly, not behind her - and attempting to block out everything, so he didn't have to think or feel or want Michonne anymore. He wanted her happy and that's what he had seen just minutes ago, happiness wasn't him and that was okay.

"She offers, but it's a bit embarrassing taking lessons from one of your best friends." Rick chuckled at the memory of Michonne's annoyed face and Rick's big laughs in response to her asking where the rectum was. "'I swear Rick, you're like a big baby."' She had punched him in the arm and then started laughing as she saw Rick's eyes watering.  
"Well, if you ever need tutoring, you can always come to me, we can practice biology..." The look on Rick's face caused a horror filled one of Lori's. "Oh gosh, not like that. You're making me come all undone... Oh snap." As Rick laughed, he saw a look of anger dawn on Lori's face, she wasn't going to lighten up if he continued. Stifling his laugh, he watched as the irritated look lessened, but did not go. "Well Rick, the offers there if you want it. I'm going now."  
The switch in her mood set something off in Rick, seeing a soul that wasn't light bugged him, even at this age. It looked like she needed his help too.  
Greeted by the bell Rick stuck his hand in his pockets and walked with his head down, a slight grin on his face thinking about the mess up Lori had made of herself.

* * *

The sun at eight o'clock seemed to be setting, the sky a mixture of all the colours on a paint palette used to paint the colours of something, anything, beautiful.

He saw the pink of Michonne's tongue in it, the orange she loved so much and the purple, the royal that was laced into her skin. Sighing at the frustration of seeing her everywhere the more he tried to avoid her, Rick ran a hand over his face and fell onto his bed.  
As cheesy as it may say, he had felt a void in his world today and he knew it was because they hadn't been what they were today. In the space of nearly twenty four hours, things had changed, his world had shifted, nearly done a 180 degree turn, but it wasn't fully upside down yet.  
Thinking of Lori didn't bring up the same heart pounding, gut wrenching feeling but it did bring up a feeling of well... excitement. He knew she liked him, he hadn't been in this field before, he had chased... if chasing classed as silently hoping and wishing so and so would notice the quiet guy that he was.

A knock on his door bolted him right up, "Come in."  
"Son," His Mother's face beamed as she held a plate of cookies just above Michonne's head, who held her hands behind her back politely and smiled. "Michonne is here and I baked ya'll some cookies!"  
"Thank you Mrs. Grimes. I'll take them in." Michonne walked in and took the plate of cookies. Rick's mother gave him a wink before closing the door.  
The smile on Michonne's faced ceased and was replaced with an annoying one. Placing the plate down on his desk, she looked out of his window and gripped the edges of it, the muscles in her slender arms showing.  
"You want to tell me what's happening to you?" Never hearing her sound so mellow, so withdrawn from her bubbly self, Rick found a ball in his throat, a mixture of fear and anxiousness.

Tip-toeing around the question, he gave a blunt statement. "Nothing, why would you think that?" Rick felt adrenaline pump through his body, as if it were preparing him for battle.  
"I'm not stupid Rick." Her voice cracked as she turned towards him and walked over to his bed, grabbing a pillow from the side. "Don't mess about with me."  
"You're acting crazy Michonne." Trying to bring a laugh out of her was no use as she raised the pillow and hit him on the back, weak enough to not officially hurt him but strong enough to be convey her emotions.  
"You want to talk about crazy? Let's talk about you leaving me for Lori!" She hit him again and although he wanted to laugh, he didn't. "And then not knowing my favourite colour!" Michonne hit his arm with the pillow again, Rick standing up this time so he stood over her, a sign for her to stop. "Then let's talk about how you didn't wait for me after school! And let's talk about how you didn't once say hello to me in Biology or at lunch or near the stupid lockers. What are you doing?!" Her voice was a combination of hurt, confusion and anger, she huffed, out of breath but still a blazing fire in her hand as the weapon of choice - a pillow - threatened to hit him over the head.

"You're raising your voice Michonne, my mum will hear you." Rick sat back down and looked at the pillow. "Put it down Michonne." She raised it. "Put. It. Down."  
"Not until you answer why you done what you done today? Rick? Stop being-"  
"Not Mike?" He stopped her, shaking his head at the recognition that he had just said that.  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Michonne lowered the pillow but still kept a tight grip on it, her mind working a mile a minute.  
Gulping down all his fear, Rick stood back up and looked at her, into her eyes. Trying to keep the stare, he couldn't, he couldn't as everything bubbled up.

"It has everything to do with everything Michonne, damn it." Rick tried to whisper, but the boiling of emotions built up so much he wanted to spill it all. With shaking hands and a nearly breaking heart, he carried on. "And she, she was there-"  
"Who's she?"  
"And I know you're favourite colour is orange, I've got that engraved in my mind after all the days you spoke about it when you officially decided to love it after you declared your hate for blue."  
"Then why didn't you-"  
"And you didn't need me after school, you had Mike, I saw him waiting by your locker!"  
"Rick you're lou-"  
"And I'm not talking to you, because-"

Michonne raised the pillow to his head and hit him so he fell onto the bed.  
"For goodness sake Michonne," Rick said, shaking his head and touching the side of his face. "You wanted answers, I'm giving them to you!" They stared at each other, mouth's open and gasping for air. They both didn't know what to say in the moment, except that the darkening of the room didn't help but intensify whatever they were feeling. "Turn on the light, Michonne." She stood still, her lips pursing up. "Michonne, stop being so difficult." Rick bounced up and walked past her, careful not to brush her. Flicking on the light, he saw her face better, the slight sparkle in them showing she had was feeling something in the moment.

She stepped in front of him as he walked back and when he tried to step around her, she mirrored that too. "Michonne, seriously, I'm trying to sit down."  
"Tell me why." Michonne mumbled. When he didn't open his mouth, she repeated it, louder. Stronger. "Rick Grimes tell me why!"  
"Because Michonne." He sighed. With a quivering lip and weak knees he held her shoulders and looked at her, looked at what was in front of him, that he couldn't really ever touch because what they were could not be more than what it was, they were so close and yet so far.  
"Rick, stop leaving me here waiting! Just say it."

"You want to talk about waiting?" He spat and stepped away from her, watching her, watching the darkness of the sky outside and her strong form and her hand holding the pillow in a loose grip as the anger left her. "I have been waiting, for four years Michonne, for you to look at me like I mean something."  
"You mean something Rick, you know you do."  
"Something more."  
The room was quiet now and Michonne sighed, throwing the pillow on the bed. "Rick..." She said it so softly, it was a blow to the heart a million times over.  
She stepped closer to him and placed two fingers under his chin, lifting his head. He wanted to turn away, to not look at her and tell her that he had seen Mike kiss her earlier. So he did, he ripped away from her.

"He makes you happy, I know that. I saw him kiss you. I know where I stand Michonne, I just need time."  
"Time isn't ignoring me, Rick! We've been friends for too long to-"  
"I want to be more than friends!" He turned around and grabbed her face, made her look at him and see everything seething from him. "Michonne, I want to be more."  
He watched as tears filled her eyes and bending down, the slight taste of her trembling lips was enough to make him weaker in the knees. At first she didn't respond, but eventually her hands laced around his neck and pulled him closer.  
Without breaking the kiss, they walked towards the wall and Rick kissed her, full of all the hunger, the years and months and days and hours and minutes he had been waiting to finally be in this moment. They kissed like it was the end of the world, the only thing on their minds.

He couldn't find the exact way to describe it, but it felt like home. Like white picket fences and a white house that stood alone in the hot summer, surrounded by flowers bright and tall. It was a sense of piece and undeniable emotion. Grabbing her waist he pulled her closer, he wanted more of her, because this moment dared to flee at any moment.  
She broke the kiss.  
Rested her forehead against his.  
"I love you." Rick weakly proclaimed, almost stumbling over the words.  
When she didn't reply, he kissed her again, softly, trying not to disturb what was surrounding them.  
"We can't Rick." She finally said. "We just can't."  
"Why? Why n-"  
Just then, the door opened and they sprung from each other just in time to find Rick's mother with the house phone in hand. "Hey Michonne, it's your mother. She wants you home now."

Michonne looked at Rick then back at Mrs. Grimes with a faint smile on her face. "Tell her I'm coming home now."  
Upon closing the door, Rick sunk his eyes low again, knowing the moment was over. "Michonne, I-"  
"It's okay. It's fine. I'm just going to go Rick. Let's try and... put this behind us, okay?"  
"But I don't want that." He protested, fists balling and eyes stinging.  
"It's a need, not a want."

She walked towards the door and hesitated on the handle. "I wanted it too. A little. If you can believe it. Goodbye Rick."

And Rick was left, not knowing what to do with himself as the door snapping shut hit him in the heart like a bullet.

* * *

 **A/N: SORRY FOR THE LONG AWAITED UPDATE, MY SUMMER IS BUSY!**


	6. And

The minute the name 'Andrea' dropped from Merle's mouth, Rick felt a bigger shift in the air. An already savage Michonne, who Rick had noticed had a tremble mouth and hands, rose her Katana up.

Rick could see Merle was taunting her, he knew how that smug face could crawl under your skin and pinch at every nerve in your body just so the urge to fight him would be the strongest it could be. He remembered his distasteful mouth and the fact he had lived, sometimes - although he wouln't say it and couldn't say it, because the company of Daryl couldn't ever call for it - disgusted Rick, it turned his spit sour.

As she stepped forward, eyes full of a rage he knew he had felt before, he walked towards her, "Hey! I told you to drop that!" Slowly lowering her Katana, Michonne did not lower her eyes from their gaze. Rick watched the rising of her chest, the rapidness of it and wondered just how the name came to mean so much to her.

He wondered if she had heard his name often after she had left, if anyone had ever said it and if it had choked her up when she didn't think it would. Did it ever leave her with stinging eyes and a dose of confusion? Sometimes, he used to say her name aloud and a taste of wanderlust would find him, push him to pack his bags with as much as he could fit and look for her with the little money had from a crappy, dull till job in his early twenty days. Thinking about it, Rick wanted to chuckle. All the time he was thinking they'd never see each other again and writing cheesy poems that found their inevitable death in the bin, they would finally meet, just in circumstances that wouldn't allow them to be. Sweet irony.

Swaying from side to side, like a boxer trying to confuse his opponent, Michonne dropped their gaze and changed her focus to Merle, who Rick sure as hell knew was smirking behind him. He had never seen her this mad. Not even on that one day she had every right to be.

He was sure the sound of grinding teeth would be heard from some speakers if they put a microphone anywhere next to her mouth.

"You know Andrea?" Rick whispered, trying not to raise his voice to her. Although there was no time for this, out in the forest at this time of day, where the walkers could appear at any moment, he still didn't want her to feel unwelcome. When she didn't return her attention back to him, he stepped closer, making sure he could be the only thing she saw. "Hey! Do you know Andrea?" He repeated more urgently.

Rick knew she wanted to bite back, he could see it in the way her lips opened and closed ever so slightly, as if she was whispering to the wind. Michonne could spill out everything if she wanted to, could have brought his past back to a reality, told him 'You never used to be like this', 'you were better. Kinder.', 'You've changed' but didn't. Rick thought about Lori in that moment, the flashes of her words whenever they'd argue, the constant reminders of him changing, the continued battle to choose between wanting to survive and staying true to his old self.

Instead, Merle answered the question for her, a chirp in his voice that rubbed Rick the wrong way as he looked at Michonne. The tell-tale sign of red rimmed eyes showing either tears of frustration or anger. Rick wasn't prepared to ask. "Yep, she does! Her buddy spent all winter cuddled up in the forest!" Merle made a noise that signified something deeper than just pure jokes. It was a slight mockery, a 'mmm...' but it held a tang to it that only men with certain agenda's used.

Walking away from Michonne but still facing her with his body, he halfed his attention between her and Merle. "...my Nubian Queen..." Merle continued, which caused Rick to look up at Michonne, her shoulders raised and face strong.

Was that only anger about Andrea on her face?

He knew he was over-exaggerating. An asshole like Merle and a girl like her.

But the way she didn't snap back at the nickname made it almost believable.

* * *

"Stay with him Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, I'm going to speak to her."

They all nodded in recognition as Merle chuckled against the tree. "I can't go anywhere, but if you touch my Nubian Queen, I'll get you."

"Daryl, you're lucky he's your brother." Maggie mumbled beneath her breath.

Escaping from the scene, Rick walked in the same direction Michonne had. He wasn't sure how he was going to speak to her, however, tongue tied and fast seemed to be the only options on the menu.

She was marking trees with her sword, cutting them over and over again and with every single motion letting out an irritated moan. He watched her agility, her focus and the way her muscle pressed against her skin. The way that she gripped harder and harder each time, as if it wasn't enough to simply scratch the surface. If he were an English Literature expert, he would have found a metaphor for it, applied it to her in some way. But, he sighed, he wasn't.

"You're not great at sneaking up on people." Her voice plain, something she always would do when she was at least a bit annoyed.

Stepping forward, Rick eyed her Katana that stood like an extension to her body. It was a seemless flow between it and her arms, like they were one. "I'll try better next time." A smile didn't break from her lips. "You okay?"

Raising her eyes to his, she shrugged. "No. You didn't let me kill him, Rick."

"I couldn't."

Slicing at another tree, she left a huge scratch compared to the others she had left before. "Why not?"

"Daryl." Rick stood where he was, knowing there was a boundary between them that he could not overstep. A part of him wanted to spill out more, tell her that he didn't want the view of her to be tainted with the ring of 'murder' every time it appeared.

"Dark with a bow and arrow?" Rick nodded. "Why?" She questioned, lowering her Katana just enough for her attention to be given to him once again.

"He's a friend." Her face twisted and she took her Katana against a tree again.

"So what am I again?" Running a hand over his face and then returning it to the back of his neck, Rick walked forward and recieved a raised Katana pointing directly at his chest. "Say it, because I haven't heard it in almost a week and back there I almost fooled myself into believing I was a 'friend' you'd defend."

Placing his hands at his chest and his palm outwards, he signalled that he meant no harm. Rick had grown accustom to not biting his tongue as much since he had been a leader and there was no reason for it to change now. "I didn't choose the status of what we are. If I had, it would have been much more different than-" He looked down to his chest, ran his eyes along the Katana to her hand and up her face to her eyes, "-this."

"I apologised." She retreated, almost looking hurt, save for the ravage look still in her eyes.

"And I tried, so don't play that bullshit on me Michonne, okay?" Snapping back, he leant forward, the leader in him feeling and stirring inside of him.

Watching her body language shift in front of him was not pleasing. When they had last spoken all those nights ago and she had apologised, something seemed to open up just a little bit in her... as well as him. But now, watching her straighter back and her stronger stance and bitten bottom lip he had a feeling things were about to change.

"If you don't want 'my' bullshit. I will leave. I survived years without you." This time she swiped at a tree right beside Rick, the sound of the Katana slashing through the air so close to his ears he almost thought his ear had been cut off.

Feeling a tinge of anger, he found his way to his hips and patted his gun, a sign. "Well it's so easy for you to leave, isn't it? You're not emotional. You're a robot. You always have been. And what happened between you and Merle that has him calling you his... Princess?" He spat the words. "You want to play friends? We can play. But friends tell each other everything."

Not letting go of his gaze she threatened him with a single expression, asking him if he wanted to go where he was going. "You're being irrational. No, I haven't been anywhere near that filth! Don't you dare say that Rick about me Rick, I have emotions." They were arguing in loud whispers, the threat of zombies still on their mind. He watched as she stepped closer, the tight grip on the Katana deadly and the rise in her chest, fast like the build up in an action movie, like the build up to the plot twist, like the build up to the end of them again.

Admittedly, Rick wanted to slip back and hold his tongue, just enough for him to survive and possibly have the past back for all the times nostalgia had taunted him and told him times were better then. He wanted to feel that time again, the bliss, but he was meant to be realistic. Whenever he had brought it up to Lori, the high school days, the bliss of Shane and Michonne, she had squeezed his hand and said 'But we weren't together until after that. That's when the bliss came.'. Shaking his head, he swear he could almost feel her hand on his and it snatched at his heart like a bag thief in the most horrible part of the world.

"Rick?" Her angry, privileged tone bit at him and something took over him. If he had thought about it, he'd realise that it was nostalgia and sadness and anger all rolled into one, it wasn't helping him function, it was going to kill him.

Rick Grimes faced her with fisted hands, turning white from the pressure in which he held them there. "You have no right to come here. To the home I have built and bring up the things I left behind, understand? Because unlike you, I have a hard time leaving things behind, it would take too much time putting them away again. I am not irrational. I'm fine."

"It's not my fault we couldn't be together and you think you're fine, Rick. A man with red rimmed eyes who doesn't sleep at night isn't fine, he's sick." She sliced at the tree beside him again and when she drew back, Rick felt a red, hot pain on his cheek. Her expression didn't change at all as Rick grabbed the side of his face to pull it away and see blood covering his hands.

"Go to the car, Michonne." With the way he shouted, he was sure a number of zombies would appear at any second. When she stood still and stubborn, he bit the inside of his cheek as he felt slick, hot blood drip down the half of his face.

"NOW! Or I swear I leave you."

* * *

After walking back and the laugh of Merle rich enough for even Daryl to get annoyed to the point of punching his brother - though Rick could see it wasn't the hardest punch Daryl could throw - and the ripping of his shirt to place on his bleeding cheek, they aimed for the car.

A quiet, but dangerous Michonne stood still at the back, waiting for whatever Rick had next to throw. In her mind, whatever happened had to happen, just like this whole apocalypse made no sense, nothing else had to either. She had nothing to lose as far as she was concerned and it was obvious, and just as well known, that things partly buried would stay that way - half dead and half alive. What was between them couldn't be touched again, it couldn't be full of life and burning like it had been that night. It was tainted with all the lies and loneliness and it was her fault, she took all the blame.

She watched Daryl with Merle and Maggie tending to Rick's wounds, as Glenn checked around frantically for the arrival of any zombies.

"I'm hearing groans guys, we have to go." They all faced her, then looked back at Rick. Finally finding each other's eyes, he couldn't hold it for long, even though a sane part of her right now wanted to. Eventually, he walked towards her, like a man on a mission, a man to take charge and he licked his lips, not ready to say what he wanted to say; but a mad part of him was ready to, a part he thought came with the job of leader, a part he wanted to show Lori right now and prove he had it together, that he could take care of the kids, that she should have stayed to see.

Looking at the woman in front of him he decided that she was not worth going crazy over, that the deep cut in his cheek was enough of a reason to come to that decision. That she had not changed. She still had the law of escapism in her bones and she could leave at any given moment so easily that it wasn't worth trying to rebuild bridges.

"We're going to patch you up, then you are gone."


	7. Nothing

**A/N: I changed some parts of the scene in season 3 :)  
**

* * *

"Does she have to go?" Beth questioned, bouncing Judith in her arms who seemed to reach out her hands and attempt to grab at the lock haired lady, who stood with a bag on her back and held her katana like it was the only thing she knew truly.

Rick looked between Beth and Michonne as eye contact was made between them, a sort of genuine respect for each other forming in that single moment.

"She could stay." Glenn stepped forward from the background, followed by Maggie who nodded in agreement, "I think she could Rick."

"She has to go." The sterness in his voice didn't stop anyone from backing down at his statement of her going.

"She could be a real good asset, Rick." Daryl mumbled beside him, putting an arrow towards the sky and watching the tip shine in the sunlight with one eye squinted.

They kept bickering, Rick fighting everyone on the idea of her staying longer than she had. Although he felt guilty, there was an ache in him that resurfaced every time he looked at her and he was afraid, because every time they got close he swear he could feel a presence. Rick could feel himself hurting a lost soul.

Michonne watched on, her legs tired from all the standing and her shoulders beginning to hurt with the food that added weight to the backpack. She couldn't help but feel disrespected, being spoken about in third person as she stood right there, like a pawn they could add or remove from the board freely and go about their daily lives as if no change had happened.

"She, can go." Rick was stubborn in his fight, the angrier he got, the more his southern drawl harderned, just like his face and his fists in his jeans pockets.

"But why?" Hershel spoke. "Tell us why."

Everyone was quiet then, watching as Rick's lips fumbled silently over words that didn't run into the air and convince anyone of a reason why. In that moment, Rick watched on as Hershel waited on a reply, not backing down despite knowing all the full fledged reasons why. It was a test. Hershel knew he couldn't break his walls in front of these people and that meant Michonne wouldn't be able - or allowed by the actions of everyone - to leave.

As if a sign, Rick felt his insides collapse in defeat and everything that cared to defeat him heightened in that single moment. He felt the hot beat of the sun on his face and the dryness in his mouth from the limited amount of water he had drunk in the past two days, anxiety filled him as everyone stared at him, still waiting for an answer.

"She-"

"My name is Michonne, you should know that Rick." The bite in her voice ripped off flesh, leaving his insides exposed.

Feeling hotter than he had seconds ago, Rick clenched his teeth together and he was sure the line of his jaw would be seen for miles. In front of him, she stood with her head high and shoulders back, ready for whatever comment that left his mouth.

Their friendship, or whatever it was, teetered in this instance and neither party knew how to handle it. They seemed to prod at each other, daring one to step over the edge and leave it forever so there was nothing left between them.

It couldn't be Rick.

"Dad, what is she talking about?" Carl looked up at him behind is cowboy hat, waiting for an answer.

Ignoring the question everyone wanted answered, he finally gritted his teeth and spoke, "Fine. She can stay. Since you all want her so badly." There was a sudden gust of wind then, as if everyone had let out a breath that had been held for far too long. "Get back on it ya'll, we got thangs to do today, the sun's too hot for us to just stand about."

As everyone dispatched with whispers, Glenn tapped Rick's shoulder. "As much as I want to know, I won't ask. But you made a good choice. Even if it wasn't one hundred percent yours." Giving him a slap on the shoulder, Glenn left to catch up to Maggie who laced her hand through his.

Turning back to Michonne he found her stood in the same place, in the same stance, with just as much fire in her aura. "Carl, start heading back." Tapping his son's hat down as he walked away, Rick's playful tone didn't last for the long. The deadness in his eyes returned as he walked to her, bitter because of how she had left something slipped in useless, blinding rage.

"My name isn't she." He watched her mouth, wached how it pushed up in disgust as she finished the sentence. How had he kissed that mouth before, with such vigor, with such love?

"You aren't staying in here."

"Am I sleeping on the couch?" Her dry banter ticked him off.

"There's a broken down lorry," he winced, "stay there."

"Fine." The sharpness in her voice broke him and as he took a step forward, a familiar fuzzy feeling cuddled him. In the corner of his eye he could see her now, her face luminious and her aura blinding. He couldn't do that in front of her.

"Fine." He replied bluntly, almost wanting to pat himself on the back and run over to her. Hug her. Have her make him feel whole again. But as he looked in the same direction, she was no longer there, like a faint ghost only there to remind him when and where boundaries could be overstepped.

Abruptly turning away from Michonne, who's eyes seemed to follow his eratic ones, he started to jog inside, the heat and her and emotions causing him to break out in a sweat so much so that he craved the coolness of the prison walls.

"Dad!" Carl jogged alongside him, constantly pushing the sheriff cap up to keep it from taking his vision away. "You didn't tell me what she meant?"

* * *

The sun was weaker today and sent thrilling kisses down Rick's skin as he rose binoculars to his eyes. Guilt had kept him up most of the night as he knew Michonne had slept outside in the fields, undoubtedly dangerous threats all around her, due to his irritable mind.

Focusing on where she had slept, he noticed her coming out of the lorry's doors and swiping at zombies who had suddenly recognised her existence.

Often, he'd reminisce on their days, on the laughs he gave her that made orange juice pour out of her nose and the milkshakes and the shared maths answers. He remembered feeling unstoppable with her, the feeling of flying - he was sure - wouldn't even come close to it. When he felt a sting in the corner of his eye and his vision became blurry in the binoculars he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Blinking numerous times, he found something forming in the distance. It started as a blinding white light, that started to form, slowly, into the shape of a person with her hair and her shape and her face.

It couldn't be.

She never came this early.

Why was she?

Raising the binoculars to his eyes once again he saw her, saw her long brown hair and her smiling pink mouth and her soft skin. His mouth opened and Rick could feel everything he had ever felt with her in the moment, she was beautiful, standing there. The glow on her so healthy, unlike the pale she had been before everything went... but nothing went wrong? She was here, in the felt, smiling at him and greeting him, luring for him to come over and feel her one more time. He had missed the feeling of her skin glazing over his and the softness of her lips trailing down him.

Throwing the binoculars down, Rick made way for the stairs, not thinking about a single thing other than his final destination: her.

Opening the gate, Rick ran, closing it behind him and taking out his gun to shoot a few zombies that came in view. Nearby Michonne sprung up and looked at him running across the field, a questioning look on her face as she ran behind him, mentally choosing to allow whatever was happening to happen but being there as safety in case.

There was blood pumping through his ears, knocking at the door of his brain as he worked it over time. Every memory relaunched, every nerve in his body was sensitive and at work, his senses, his motors, he was a machine at full power.

Lactic acid built and dared to dissolve his muscles but he didn't care, he kept going through the field, allowing the ring of the gun to call every zombie nearby even if it meant he'd only touch her for a minute. Only apologise for a minute and tell her how wrong he was and shout at her for leaving him here with reminders of her, fresh from her womb, that he couldn't get rid of. That he loved so much.

His pace increased as he got angrier and angrier, he was afraid she would fade with the wind and he wouldn't be fast enough to get to her. He'd miss a chance to bring her home, to the kids, he would be the sole reason Judith wouldn't see her mother.

She was back, in the flesh, no late night phone calls that left him craving for more of her, but this was it. He had been granted his wish.

Finally, after what felt like forever and a day, or watching a really long black and white movie with a million subtitles, he made it to her and crumbled, fell before before and cried. Gulping, gasping, grasping at her, he apologised for every sin he had made against her, every raised voice, every decision against her word, every time he had left, how he hadn't found them quick enough before he lost her to Shane.

Her scent was so strong it burned his nose, but he didn't care, he buried himself in her as she pulled him up into a hug. Through blurred eyes, he watched the green dots of the leaves on the trees sway in the wind. She stroked his hair and mumbled to him as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, her grip tightening around him. He felt home, felt the family pictures with Carl and the day after they got married when they made love in every single room of the house.

"I miss you Lori. My past... it's come back to haunt me. You're not here."

When she didn't answer, he opened his eyes and blinked until all the tears had fell so his eyes were clear as the dawn. Something cut at him, deep, like the first time a close family member dies and you walk through their house realising nothing will ever be the same. He was sure if he reached inside his heart, he could pull out shards of glass stuck in it, placed perfectly in places that if he tried, however, he would nick the vein that kept him alive.

It occurred to him, slowly and full of brutally elongated time, that the feeling of her stroking his hair was in fact the cruel wind, that swirled through his curls like a curse and the mumbling he had heard in his ears was the rustling of the leaves. Like a joke he stepped back and she wasn't in front of him any longer, his arms were wrapped around himself like the arms of the jackets worn in a mental asylum.

Rage seethed through him and his legs became lead, dragging him down to what felt like the depths of hell. This world was hideous, wrong, full of hatred and evil that he couldn't comprehend. He wanted to lay down forever, take in the day and night, let the shoots of plant wrap themselves around him until he was part of them, he didn't want to be any more.

The sound of something slicing through the air brought his senses back just enough to stand up with his hand pathetically holding a shaking gun and pull the trigger with his eyes squeezed shut. When he was met with the sound of an empty gun, he opened his eyes to Michonne's wide ones. It was aimed at her shoulder.

"Lucky it was empty." She always knew how to fill silence.  
Staring at her, he watched her face turn, a look between empathy and questioning him as he stood in front of her. Not ready to answer a single thing, he looked down and away from her, his trembling lips and veined fists at his side an obvious sign he was not all right. "Rick, who..." Speedily, he walked away from her, seeing red and blue as he did so. Nothing that happened there was real and he was angry at himself, at the world for showing him something that could cause hope in this abyss. The blue, it sulked over his heart until it slowed down his heartbeat, made him feel sluggish, made him never want to raise his voice or lead again because it took so much energy for him to feel.

"Rick wait!" Michonne shouted, slicing at zombies that tried to follow him. He kept walking, almost breaking into a jog. "Rick, stop!"

A few seconds later, he heard running footsteps and was tackled down to the floor then turned around in seconds. Squinting as the sun pierced his eyes, he focused on Michonne on top of him, her legs pinning him down and memories of old play fights filled his mind, how he would always let her win. He didn't want them any more, the memories tasted bitter and turned his blood cold. Left him empty and craving for things this world, this stupid, foolish world would place in front of him only to take it away.

"Rick, who... tell me what's wrong!" The urge in her voice only made him more lethargic, more tired of the way sadness and empathy laced through everyone. He wanted to tell her that it was pointless caring, everything goes anyway, everything leaves. That the love - he choked as he thought of it, that word, did she ever really love him? - was fake and useless and would disappear in the small space of time a heart stopped beating.

He saw her big eyes and her concerned face and he wanted to tell her, spill everything, but he couldn't, he bit his tongue. She would come back soon, the real her, and if she found him like this, then she'd leave forever.

Rolling Michonne off him he scrambled back up and looked at her, "You can't do that Mich, I'm marrie... I was..." Rick broke into a sprint, leaving Michonne to figure out all on her own what he had just seen.

* * *

Rick tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he sat on the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He cursed at himself, 'I hate you.' Rick repeated it, hating himself for even thinking that was her. For being tricked.

The phone rang, making Rick's skin crawl as he jumped, anticipating the conversation they were about to have.

Picking it up eagerly, he sprawled out apologies in a single breath, "...I miss you. Why weren't you there today, I-"

"Rick stop."

It was abrupt, left him lost for words and quiet.

"Yes Lori?" His reply was soft, full of all the regret he felt.

"You wanted her. Ever since that day I knew, I knew you kissed her, I just didn't ever say anything."

With that, the phone went dead and a dialling tone filled his ears. Throwing the phone at the wall, Rick shook violently and sat in the corner of the cell until dawn called for him to fulfil his duty once again.

* * *

 **A/N: So in the next chapter, we'll learn a little bit about how Rick was oblivious to Lori knowing about the kiss shared between him and Michonne! Also, I realised in my old chapters I've spelt Hershel's name wrong! Incredibly sorry!**


	8. Happened

**a/n: I want everyone to realise that they're still in 10th grade and somethings happen out of purely being naive and believing in things we learn don't always come true. I hope you enjoy the story.**

* * *

An oblivious Rick Grimes didn't notice the frequent stares and hushed whispers that sprawled around him as he closed his locker. However, he was aware of the empty feeling that set in his heart when the mocking voice of Michonne didn't greet him along with her face.  
There was no way of denying that the absence of her made it feel like the world was so much larger than it really was.  
Ever since last night he had felt a ray of emotions.  
She couldn't just drop what had happened last night and ignore him forever, the kiss they shared meant something. There was a passion Rick felr every time he thought about it, every time he thought about her hands around his neck and her tongue touching his.  
Getting up this morning had been difficult, he had gotten redressed twice because whilst getting dressed he constantly looked over to the wall and ignored what his hands were doing – putting on clothes back to front and inside out.  
Rick sighed and looked around to find eyes watching him as if he had a big red sign pointing at him that he couldn't see.  
Not wanting to question it, he simply raised an eyebrow, patted himself down and shrugged to everyone, showing he had no clue at all what they were staring at him for.  
Left with nothing to do, Rick reopened his locker and started to sort out the things inside of them, trying to put some order to one part of his life again.

Shifting through stuff whilst slowly becoming aware of the whispers around him but staying just as lost on the topic, he found a picture of him and Michonne that she had taken on a whim last year on a polaroid camera she had gotten for her birthday.  
He remembered the situation vividly, with just him, her and Shane at her house. Shane had disappeared to the toilet and Michonne had whispered to him that she wanted a quick picture.

"'Aren't you going to wait for Shane?"' Rick had asked.  
"'No, just me and you, he'd make too much of a silly face."'  
Not wanting to disappoint her on her birthday, Rick posed with her, taking into account he couldn't do his normally silly face. The flash stung his eyes just a little, making him shriek and rub them frantically as Michonne laughed at him.

"'Here, shake it until the picture turns up, yeah?" Michonne passed it to him and Rick shook it delicately, not wanting to damage it. "'Rick,'" she had rolled her eyes then and grabbed his hand, making him shake the picture quicker. "'Not everything in this life you have to treat with kindness, not all things deserve it... not saying that about this picture, it deserves it. But I'm trying to teach you a life lesson, like... don't be kind to mean people, it's in your nature. But it's a bad habit."'

He had looked at her then, confused about why the sudden topic had come to flourish.  
"'I'm just saying, okay? Now, I think there's more birthday cake to eat, let's leave the room and worry Shane!'" She jumped up and tapped his shoulder, leaving him to shove the picture in his jeans pocket and only remember he had it when he got home.  
Shaking the memory off Rick placed down the picture to be greeted by a huffing Shane, who held up a finger as he bent over and caught his breath.

Gasping Shane clung on Rick's shoulder and shook him slightly. "You... RUN!"  
"Why?" He laughed.  
"It's no joke," Shane straightened up, looking at him dead in the eyes. "Mikes after you and he's not telling anyone why, but he's asking about you."

The blood ran from Rick's body and his hands started to shake, but the look in his face didn't change. No one knew the reason why, that was good, he could play it off as a joke. Laughing once again, Rick slapped his arm, "I'm sure it's nothing. I'll handle it."  
Part of him wanted to be made that Michonne mentioned it, but he understood why. He saw the way she had left and the look in her eyes, the absolute confusion and the need to find someone to empathise with her and give her some sense of stability.

Bracing himself as Mike came around the corner, Rick took a deep breath in a remembered that kindness didn't need to exist here but it would be easier than punches, questions and a bloody mouth.

"I got your back bud." Shane stood beside him, his shoulders high and hands in a ball. Rick wanted to smile, a smile full of pure gratitude, but he kept his face neutral, ready.  
Although fear tainted his every pore, he stood beside Shane, with his mind clear as day and his heart pumping in his ears.

They locked eyes as Mike sauntered towards him, his friends behind him with sneers on their faces laced with confusion towards why Mike was bothered by such a minute person.  
Rick felt the rush of adrenaline raise the hairs all over his body and stood rooted in the spot, not moving, anxious from all the eyes watching him but brave enough to stand and fight – if needed, which he hoped it wouldn't come to – so all the eyes watching him would think of him bigger than they did now.

"Yo, Rick." Mike's smile was falser than the smile Rick gave his Mama when she placed porridge in front of him for breakfast.  
"Mike." His voice was sharp, a whole few notes deeper.  
"Mike." Shane repeated, adding a nod at the end and a sly smile as he crossed his arms.  
"You know what I'm here about, I'm just keeping it quiet to save you the embarrassment."

"You call this quiet?" Rick rose an eyebrow and signalled to the crowd that was forming around them. It came to mind that the bell was set to go off in any moment and if this spilled over that time, there would be a deeper amount of trouble laid out in front of all of them.  
"Your mouths too quick." Mike stepped towards him and Rick stayed put, he heard the whistle from Shane and felt to chuckle just a little bit.

"This isn't needed."  
"It is." He stepped closer, there was about a rulers length between them. "Bro code."  
"It wasn't broken, you aren't eve-" In the longest seconds of Rick's life he watched Mike's fists raise and Shane step in front of him, blocking the punch with his forearm and bringing it right back down to Mike's side as he grabbed it.

"No one raises a hand to my friend, ever." Shane shut it down, instantly. Everyone holding their breath in the audience they had achieved. Rick stepped aside, no longer blocked by Shane who's eyes still showed a slight humour but a darkness that shouldn't be messed with. Rick saw that look once, not too long ago, when in soccer practice some jerk had purposely kicked him for the ball.

"Your friend," Mike spat, staring daggers at Rick who straightened his back and mirrored the same look towards him. "Needs to learn to not step over boundaries that have been set."  
Shane shrugged, "He's learned from the best, but I'll have a word with him. Now everybody, shows over the bell is going to ring... ah, right on queue." Everyone groaned and mumbled disappointed things as feet shuffled towards their classes.

"You and I, we need to talk," Shane turned towards him, "but right now, I have gym class and I'm ready to kick some ass." He placed a hand on Rick's shoulder, making him look into his eyes. "Try to stay out of trouble while we're apart."  
Rick nodded and as Shane left, he saw Michonne running around the corner, her shocked face and scrambling eyes jumping from Mike and his group to Rick who stood in the middle of the hallway, traces of shock still in his body.  
She opened her mouth and closed it again as Mike grabbed her hand and pulled her right back around the corner.

* * *

"So," Shane sat down, wiping his hands on his jeans before digging into the lasagne and chips that they had been fed today. "Spill."  
"I kissed her." The way Rick said it made it sound almost too normal, like it just happened, like it was something that required no thought and hadn't been running through his mind all day. When he said it, he imagined it, imagined the sweet sky pink of her tongue and her plump lips pressed against his. The way she felt close to him, as he pulled her closer to him and burned for a forever with her. If only they had had more time, there would have been more kisses and confessions, she may have changed her mind.

"And by her you mean...?" Shane spooned a huge mouthful of lasagne in his mouth and shared a look with Rick, who's eyes did not shift one bit. Raising an eyebrow to Rick, his question was answered immediately and resulted in him spitting his food on the side of his place.  
"That's gross Shane!" Rick suddenly didn't feel like eating any more.  
"You're gross...ly awesome! Way to go dude, you got balls!" Shane picked back up the same food he had just spat out and shoved it back in his mouth, swallowing it.

"Eurgh. But no, Shane, it's no good. You saw what it's caused." His head hung lower then. Rick Grimes was no man that caused trouble, he couldn't be, the law didn't allow for it and he didn't want that on his conscience when he found himself with a badge and the name 'Officer Grimes' on it.  
"But how is that your fault? I mean Michonne shouldn't have told... yeah! She shouldn't have told." If he could, Shane probably would have patted himself on the back for contributing a idea.

Rick shook his head and picked up the fork to play around with his food, "You can't blame her, he's her... whatever."  
Shane gave him a thumbs up while his mouth was full. When he finally finished, he gave a satisfying smack of his lips and leant back in his chair. "What was it like?"  
Rick shrugged, "Well I wasn't really worried about him fighting me, 'cause you were-"

"No, kissing her." Shane gave him his full attention and waited for his reply, but Rick didn't know how. He kept thinking about it, the way it had felt and what it meant for him. How could he put all the words and emotions into a single sentence?  
"It was... okay. She kissed me back, so that counts as something, right?"  
"Was it saucy ?"

"Shane."  
"Did you feel her butt?"  
"Shane?"  
"I have to ask! Well that's your first kiss done and done Rick Grimes, you're no longer a lip virgin!" He drum rolled on the table and caused the cafeteria to look in their direction. "Let's go, I feel like hanging outside today."

"Aren't Mike and Michonne and all their gang outside?" The worry started to set in him, but the shrug demonstrated in front of him made him feel at ease.  
"So what? He's just angry that you stole his girl that wasn't even his girl, he'll get over it, I've seen it happened enough." Shane gave him a wink and pushed his chair in, Rick following right behind him just before being stopped by a chirpy Lori in the hallway.

"Hey Rick. Hi Shane," Shane gave her a smile and flicked his eyes over to Rick before making a kissy face she thankfully couldn't see. "I, uh, just wanted to ask if you wanted to come over tonight, to study for biology. Funnily enough, even if you say no, both our mums are aware that it's happening." She giggled and watched Rick fidget with his hands, before putting a smile on his face and touching her upper arm.  
"'Course I'll be there, mitosis ?"

"You know it." Lori whipped her hair and gave him a big smile before walking away from him. "You're funny Rick Grimes!"  
As Rick swaggered towards Shane – who was shaking his head in eternal confusion – he thought of all the events that had happened in the short space of time that was this school day.  
"You're putting me to shame Rick, you're putting me to shame."  
As they walked, however, Rick could only think about Michonne.

* * *

The end of the day finally held it's hand out to Rick who happily accepted it. Opening his locker, like a sign that couldn't be missed, the photo he had been looking at earlier fell to the ground. Grabbing it quickly, a part of him wanted to scrunch it up in a ball and throw it in the nearest bin, but the buzz of hope that rung through him made him slip it in between two books he never touched and smile just a little.

Closing the locker and shaking his head with the same smile on his face, he jumped at the tap on his shoulder followed the sound of his voice.  
"Rick Grimes, come on, I have it all planned!" She took hand and laced her fingers through it, stirring exasperated sounds from the people beside them.

As they quickly walked down the steps and took a different route home, Rick found the constant attention from everyone around them embarrassing to say the least, he hated it. Hated the blood that rushed to his cheeks and the forcefulness that Lori held his hand with. On the other hand, he liked her simmering fire – no, it didn't burn bright – but the fact she could grab his hands and could make plans with no way of him escaping them made her interesting and that power she had, he hadn't seen in that type of form.  
Once they escaped prying eyes and walked down her street she slowed down, letting go of his hands to fish out her house key and smile at him. "You know where I live right?"

"I faintly remember coming over that one time in the beginning of our mother's friendship."  
"It's got even better since then!"  
They walked to a white picket fenced house, like the one Rick had imagined a number of times for future him and Michonne. Strangling the thought from his mind he closed the gate behind him and walked behind her, watching the sun catch the brown in her hair and bring it alive.

"No one's home, I don't think... hello?!" She shouted as both Rick and her stepped into the house, closing the door behind them. When she got no reply, she turned to him with a big grin and took his hand. "So Mitosis," she said as they walked up the stairs, the blush rising on Rick's cheeks and a feeling setting in his lower stomach too close to his centre. "You understand any of it?"

As she looked back and her eyes met his, Rick was lost for words and shook his head in return. "Well, mitosis is how body cells divide and replicate, I think..." They ended up at a door painted pink with 'Lori' painted over it. "Cheesy, I know." Her room was based on a palette of pink, white and a light brown. "Again, mum chose it. I had no say."  
Laying flat on her double bed, Rick glanced as she kicked off her shoes in the corner of his eye whilst he looked at all of her trophies. "Horse riding?"

"Mother."  
"Swimming?"  
"Mother."  
"Archery?"  
"M- actually, that was my choice, seemed like a cool sport."

"so the rest aren't?" Rick felt himself easing into the new scenario in front of him, so much so that he went to lay beside her on the bed and stare at the ceiling. He couldn't feel any slither of awkward tension, no emotions that he wanted to pour out to her in silences, they just were what they were.  
Part of him, naïve as he was, still thought of revising Biology. Rick wanted to ask about it, but could only listen to Lori answer his question and felt too rude to interrupt.

"... she chooses everything for me. Sometimes it's hard not being able to do everything I want."  
The frustration in her voice was a sign Rick asking about mitosis would probably be rude and not taken very well. "Like what?"  
"Well, I have to get my hair done every Sunday so it's pressed and ready for a tiring week of school. Then my homework has to be done on the day it's given or something of mine gets taken away from me for three days. She even makes sure I exercise three times a week." She sighed and frowned momentarily. "It doesn't matter, nothing really matters."

"Your thoughts and feelings matter Lori." They faced each other slowly, like a sudden dawning of realisation had exposed itself to them. Rick, as young and foolish as he was, nearly brought himself to stop it, to put it to rest because the contents of the day was not even buried and the contents of yesterday couldn't even die. But, with how the sunlight made Lori's body glow through the big window and the hurt made him want to touch again, their lips met.

The answer he hadn't wanted made it's way to him. The passion wasn't there. This was dim, a fire about to burn out that had been left to burn by people who were long gone from their camping spot.  
Upon realising this he opened his eyes to Lori's closed ones and closed them just as quickly, before Lori's mouth left his cold and wet. "I need to ask before... why was Mike mad at you?"

He contemplated telling the truth but when this was in front of him, how could he? "Over some stupid rumour he thought I made about him." Most of him felt bad for lying and it brought up images of last night along with it. Leaning in, he kissed the air as Lori drew back and looked him up and down, as if contemplating her own demons. He watched as she wound herself up only to release and sigh, "Okay." When he got close to her mouth again, she pressed a finger on his lips. "When someone comes through that door, this stops and we study, okay?"

* * *

Strolling home Rick could almost feel the shadow of guilt falling over him.  
Had he really wanted to kiss her?  
Is that what people do when they got lonely?  
Was it right?

As the sun set and Rick kept his hands in his pockets, he thought of all the things that had happened and how much had changed in so little time. The same colours painted the sky as yesterday and Rick cursed inwardly to himself, wishing he had someone to share it with. At times like this he didn't like walking alone. It was too quiet. It made every feeling too loud.

Eventually he turned the corner to his house and was met by Michonne sat on the doorstep. She smiled at him, his face sour and confused. How could she sit there so comfortably?  
"Isn't your boyfriend around?" He asked grudgingly.

"He's not my boyfriend." Michonne bounced up and stood between Rick and the door, there was no way he could escape.  
"He was ready to fight me like he was."  
Ignoring his comment, Michonne continued, "No one's home, so I've stayed out here for a while. I saw you, with Lori, studying Shane said?"

"Why does it matter to you Michonne?"  
Looking down she played with her thumbs and sighed, "I'm trying to make this conversation last."  
"After ignoring me for a whole day? After the way you left yesterday? I felt like crap!"  
"And you think I didn't? You're so selfish!"  
Rick looked at her in bewilderment. "I'm selfish? I'm the selfish one? You just left like what we shared meant nothing at all." Starting to trip over words, he exhaled and watched her try to fight back at him.

"I'm not here to fight with you Rick, I'm here to talk, to make things just a little bit better before-"  
"Before you leave again?" The crickets filled the silence and it dawned on Rick what was happening, the break in his voice gave away his hurt and surprise. "You're leaving again?"

"It won't work if I keep speaking to you. I'll always think a big what if, you'll always be - want to be number one and you can't be, Rick... he loves me, I want this to work, forever."  
He couldn't believe it.  
His slowing heart couldn't believe it.

"But I lo-" He bit back, not wanting to embarrass himself again, not wanting an ounce of regret to find him after this was over. "You're willing to let me go forever?"  
"No, no I couldn't Rick, you mean something to me, but..." The tears in her eyes felt like betrayal to Rick.  
"I'm not waiting on you Michonne, I can't."

She hugged him then and as much as he didn't want to return it, he found himself lacing his arms around her and burying into her shoulder. It hurt; every single word, step, cell, sentence.  
"Goodbye Rick." Her wet cheeks made him want to concave, but instead he smiled at her blurry face and nodded, then watched her walk away and in her disappearance cried right on his doorstep.


	9. Because

**a/n: This chapter is going to be a little slow as I'm - attempting to - run through every scene of clear, as it is the beginning of Richonne more or less for me!**  
 **Thank you to everyone who reviews this. I send all my love.**

* * *

"Get up, we're leaving." Rick announced as he stepped into Michonne's cell, her eyes wide open as she lay on the bed looking at the bars on the base of the top bunk. Only her head moved at the sound of her voice to look at him with a confused face, questioning how a man who had practically broken down in front of her yesterday could stand with such balance less that twenty-four hours later. But then again, she too managed to get up when dawn called - or night, sometimes dependant on how the shifts went - and seemingly be human, save for the red rimmed eyes that she was sure most people related to tiredness.

"Rick offered no reply to her look and instead fixated his eyes on hers until she opened her mouth to reply to him and he looked at the shape of her lips. "Where to Rick?" As she swung her legs off the bunk and plant her feet on the floor, her full five foot seven frame even more apparent, Rick leant on the bars avoiding eye contact. If he looked at her too much, he'd start thinking of things, things he had hidden away for so long. How all the walls were so close to them and how close proximity would mean Lori would be even more angry this time, especially since she had known all along about the thing he had lied about.

And yes, yes time had lessened wounds and meant he had grown, he had thought enough about the situations he had experienced to the point of getting passed them - even less than he thought as the current scenario showed - it still couldn't beat the feelings of a first love.

That bite, that fire. Those 'they showed up ten years later only to crash my wedding and make me marry them' type of decisions. It caused chaos and uncertainty and when life gave you another chance at it, damn, it put it into overdrive.

On the other hand, paranoia intertwined with Rick's neuron pathways and swam along with his motor neurons so that any action he took was filled with caution, filled with the deceitful feeling that he was doing wrong, somehow, by Lori and that as a consequence she would never visit him again.

"We need gun supplies." He replied bluntly, hoping somewhere close to him Lori stood, approving with the tone of his voice.

"How do you expect to get them? Guns are pretty much non existent unless strapped to the hand of zombie killers." To exasperate her point she took her katana from her back and waved it around a little, before pointing it at his gun kept at his waist. "A perfect example."

"My old department, I have the keys and only a few others did too. I'm sure there will be some."

"Department where?" Michonne put her katana back in its sleeve and walked closer to him, receiving a step back in return, her face flashing a slight sign of hurt.

"The police department, you never heard?" He whispered the last part, looked down at the ground and every where but her. Michonne shook her head in response and Rick let out a sigh, ran a hand over his ever-itching beard and to and fro from left to right. "I thought you would have, somehow. It worked out for me. I became a sheriff."

A genuine smile appeared on Michonne's face. "I'm happy for you."

"Too late now, isn't it? World's already gone to shit. Anyway, come on." As he stepped out the cell, he felt her hand rest on his shoulder and no part of him wanted to turn around. Frantically he looked for Lori and after seeing no sign of her, let his shoulders drop from their tense position.

"I done it too, I became a lawyer. Partners in crime I guess."

Not wanting to look at her and see the past conversations shared between them through their young years, where hopes and dreams spouted over young milkshakes, he quickly discarded the thought of a reply and instead gave an action. "We have to go Michonne."

"You used my name for the first time. You should be careful." Her straight face shot guilt into him and he led her to the awaiting car in silence, where Carl looked at her wearily as she took her place in the front seat.

* * *

Her knuckles pressed against the skin of her hands as she drove. Rick would allow his eyes to flash to Carl in the rear view mirror (who looked straight ahead and held his gun in front of him, hand on the trigger but safety on) then to Michonne, who's focused eyes and pursed lips threatened him to cower just a little bit.

Staring straight ahead Rick watched a small dot of a person become something and when he saw it was a man, back packed with things that he was sure he could survive months with, the only thought was to leave him behind. As if in sync with his thoughts, Michonne carried on driving, allowing the running, screaming man to fall into the background of what could be a quiet ride except for the groans of zombies surrounding them.

Looking at the road in front of them, Rick couldn't help but think of how endless it seemed. Rub out the zombie carcasses and the abandoned cars, this road mimicked the start of adulthood, the many possibilities and places to go. It reminded him of that night, where everything seemed timeless and he could literally see how his future was going to be.

Right then he looked at her, looked at the relaxed expression that now caressed her face and questioned just why he never got his wish to wake up to that face every morning in the past life.

Gradually, Michonne slowed down at the sign of a car crash, where one zombie lived to show the aftermath of it all, crawling under the car and grabbing fir the life it saw in front of it.

It could have almost been symbolic.

There was a jolt in the car and Rick flashed a look at Michonne, who's face expressed a look of panic and uncertainty. Once again she tried to move the car, but to their dismay it would not budge.

The groans of zombies increased as they sluggishly limped towards the car, covering the windows with blood stains and greasy oils that had probably spilled from their deteriorating skin. Tired and irritated, Rick turned so Carl would hear him clearly, "Cover your ears."

Scrolling down the window a little bit, the noises of the zombies intensified and with his already fatigued mind Rick wanted it to end. Raising his gun to the window he covered one ear and took a shot.

* * *

Remembering his two years in boy scouts, Rick picked up some sticks, rocks and clothing from a nearby car. "This will work." He found Michonne's eyes and she gave him a quick nod, before walking back to the car and mumbling, "Tell me when."

He walked passed Carl as he watched her walk away, stared at the stance she held, with her head still high and every footstep strong. "Hey," Carl followed him. "You put something under the car live this, some gravel and sticks, gives you some friction." They both squatted as Rick explained and heard an annoyed sigh leave Carl's mouth.

"We wouldn't have to do it if she didn't get us stuck.

The way he said it clung to Rick the wrong way. Her slate was clean, "It was an honest mistake Carl, she's not all too bad."

But how do you know?" Rick didn't answer. "You still haven't told me what she meant Dad, I won't forget either."

"We'll give her a chance, okay?" Rick said as he ambled his way towards the front of the car, Carl right at his feet and following his every move so he was, like his father, at eye level with the tires of the car.

"Why'd you let her come? I mean, she took you to Woodbury and even then you said that she split on you and-"

"It wasn't that simple. I asked her to come today because I didn't want to leave her at the prison without me there and with Merle. That and we have common interests. Right now, we have the same problems and maybe we can work on them together."

"But what problems Dad? First she suggests you knew her name and now you have problems to solve? Problems from before this world took off?"

Knowing Michonne could hear what his son just said in the car made him want to bite his tongue, knowing that he would openly have to dispute her existence before all this made him feel like the worst type of person.

"Andrea. This car. Problems that need to be sorted. Nothing else."

Thankfully, at that moment, the sound of a man screaming for help circled around them and Rick took that as a sign to leave. Looking over his shoulder, Rick almost felt sorry for the man, probably weighed down not only by the bags on his back but by the lonely and exhausted feeling of being so far from fellow humans but so close.

Removing the sincere thought from his mind, Rick stood up and knocked on the roof of the car.

Michonne, like an extension of him, did not have to be told what it meant and started the gears, finally released from the deep mud the car had been stuck in all this time.

"Let's go."

* * *

Anger and embarrassment surged through Rick as he lifted hand with the gun to the back of his head and tapped it frustratedly. Looking at the empty place, with no guns in sight made his blood boil and he felt even more stupid because this was the first time Michonne was seeing what he done and there was nothing to see at all.

As they walked in and looked around in vain, with Rick's hands constantly running through his hair and over his rough beard in frustration before kicking a bin over, Michonne bent down and picked up a bullet, twirling it between her fingers.

"Any other police stations around here?" She said, inspecting the bullet. Possibly the only one they could find here. Thinking about how it connected to his life so dearly, Michonne pictured him in his sheriff costume, with his head under the hat that was on his son's head, she could almost feel regret for how things went. But it had taken a long time to forgive herself, she didn't want to go down that road again. There were other things hurting her, still wounds that bled in the middle of the night and never let her forget the source of them.

"I was the police here. Me and a few other guys, in a big town." Rick looked around the room, looked for hope. He ground his teeth and wiped at his brow, "There are other places. May not have as many guns as was in here but-" As he started to think about other destinations to put in his speech and placed his hands on his hips, Michonne interjected.

"We need as many guns as were in here, ammo too." Her certainty made him clock his head towards her, the way she so calmly proclaimed what was needed and seemed definite.

"Yeah," he wanted to say her name, make her head clock towards him in shock as he watched her fascinated by the bullet in her hand. "We do, but right now, I only gotta line on a couple." He watched her, waiting for a reply. Watched the dim light hit her face and the dewy look the sweat gave her as it sat on her pores. "There's a few places on the main street, bars, liquor stores, owners had guns.." he had to believe, give them a silver lining of hope and not look like a failure to another person in this life. After Lori, he didn't want to let a single soul down. "..the people didn't know about it. I did though. I had to give them permits. They might still be there."

Understanding that Michonne wasn't going to face him and remembering the way she had been when she was younger, always turning her back when something upset her, whether it be through anger or sadness, Rick watched her body language before raising an eyebrow. "You have a problem with that approach, Michonne?"

Her eyes met his in sudden surprise before flicking over to Carl, who's lips were parted in the same shock. He had said her name and although not soft, he had still taken the risk of saying it in front of his son. There was something breaking at his centre, as well as hers, and she couldn't help but feel gratitude towards him for being the reason for it.

However, she recognised his paranoia, the fear she would indeed step up and say she had a problem and she acknowledged the fact that if the same paranoia that she saw yesterday was alive he could switch and she would be gone in a heartbeat.

She knew the the reason for it however, she remembered running through fields with Andrea calling after her, telling her it wasn't real and that she would have to come back before the zombies got her. The not so distant memory of seeing ghosts in the corners of her eyes and shadows over her skin made her shiver internally.

"No Rick, I don't have a problem." Observing his leaning stance, she walked closer to him and watched him sink back, still afraid of contact between them. She watched his gaze dart around every inch of her body as she did so and finally, just a few steps from him, she offered the bullet she had picked up to him.

Rick's heart jumped at the electrifying touch as he took the bullet from her, then followed her frame out of the door after they shared a look.

Quietly clearing his throat, ashamed of the rush of blood that wanted to plaster his cheeks, Rick twirled the bullet between his fingers before placing it in his shirt pocket and thinking about how softly she had said his name.

* * *

Rick didn't know what he was looking at, but the paternal streak inside him didn't want Carl anywhere near it. No where near the spikes and the words written on the wall frantically, in a rush, a daze of crazy. Looking at Michonne, he felt something rush in him that wanted her to leave to, let him face whatever - whoever - was here and it was only intensified by reading 'TURN AROUND AND LIVE'.

Nonetheless they walked on.

"It looks like somebody has already made us there."

Rick was sure if he picked her mind, he would find fear in her.

"Doesn't mean they've found what we're looking for. Couple of the places are just straight ahead, let's get in," he sighed, dodging a spear sticking out of a car, "then get the hell out." They kept walking and Rick finally saw what he was looking for. "See, handguns and shot guns." Right on queue a zombie stumbled its way towards them and like a girl on fire, Michonne was ready, already stepping towards it to finish it off. "Wait." Rick said, fascinated. "She'll get caught, watch."

And on that word, she walked into a line. Almost satisfied, Rick wanted to be smug and pass a joke, but the gun shot that followed fatally killing the zombie spiked his adrenaline. Instantly, his hands were up as he looked towards the roof and direction it had come from. A guy in a gas mask, with beige clothes and a gun reigned on the roof and Carl, Michonne and Rick ran over.

"You leave!" The voice shouted, a little bit muffled behind the mask. "But leave your guns, your shoes and that sword. 10... 9..."

"Let's get going now." He whispered.

"Dad." Carl replied.

"We need that riffle." Michonne hissed back, her eyes full of something Rick couldn't have without encouragement, risk taking. "I think I can get up there."

"8...7...6!"

He thought about it. Rick thought about it until his brain felt like mush and his leg threatened to turn to lead. She had it, she was ready to take the risk, so why wasn't he? Michonne had always been that girl, she had been the reason that time they had gone swimming he had gotten the courage to go into the deep end and thoroughly enjoyed himself. If he didn't have so much fight or flight in his body, he may have even chuckled at the memory, allowed it to play on his mind. But he needed to make a decision and he knew which one shone brightly every time he hovered over it.

"Carl, run!" He fired a shot and instantly sprinted, heading for cover. With only one bullet left as the rest of the bullets rained from the roof, Rick was thankful towards Michonne and placed it into his python.

Steadying his heart through slower breathing, Rick stood up swiftly, ready to take a shot and to his surprise being met with empty air and Michonne on top of the roof where the shooter had been. It started again, closer and nearer, the beating of his heart frantic as he saw his death, imminent.

A shot from Carl's gun took the shooter down and Rick ran over.

"You okay?" He knew how shooting someone felt, the image of Shane still plagued him at the worst of times. Rick looked at his son long enough so he made sure he would see no form of a lie.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I told you to run for the car. I didn't want you to have to do that."

"I had to."

Rick looked over at Michonne, who's eyes were still on the man as he leant down to uncover the mask and to his horror, it was Morgan.

* * *

"I thought we were just gonna get in and get the hell out of here?" Michonne squinted at a concerned Rick.

"I'm not leaving him on the street."

"I know you said he helped you-"

"He saved my life, Michonne." Rick snapped around to her, making sure she saw the irritant look on his face. "I return the favour to those who do, hence why I took you in."

The shock on her face dissipated to almost regret for speaking poorly of his decision.

As Rick looked around, it dawned on him that his son - Duane - was nowhere to be seen and a sick knot started to form in his stomach. "He has a son." He mumbled, confused by the rays of sunshine and spikes that contaminated his vision.

"Think he's around here?" Michonne replied. Cautiously Rick stepped forward and Michonne followed, he crawled under a wooden spear and was about to step on the welcome mat before Michonne called him to a halt. "Don't. You said look out for booby traps." Slowly pulling up the mat Rick found metal spikes sticking up towards the sky beneath it and looked back at her.

"Thanks for saving me a second time in my life."

"No problem."

* * *

Carrying a man up the stairs was not an easy task, the tired lungs of both the Rick and Michonne fell into the air and caused its quiet to become disrupted. Almost stepped on a trip wire, both parties looked at each other, mouths gaped open and hearts almost running to the same beat. Opening the curtains at the top of the stairs, they saw that their fate would have been short once that trip wire met their feet, an axe covered in blood sneered at them, waiting.

"Carl," Rick called below. "Watch the trip wire."

Finding themselves - tired with the heavy load of Morgan on their shoulders - in the main room, Rick felt a sense of misery fall upon him. He looked at the walls first, all the writing, frantic and in chalk, probably written right down to the nub of it. Then, the ground, littered with ammo and guns.

"I showed him the storage locker last time." He commented.

"All of this was in it?"

"No, not even half. He's been busy." Staring in awe and envy, Rick struggled with Michonne to get the man to his bed. Once done, both Carl and Michonne started on getting whatever they could into the backpacks on their shoulders.

Rick found himself reading what was on the wall.

CLEAR.

YOU HAD THE GUN.

WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO..

Ripping his eyes away, Rick went over to the stash of guns. A mix of emotions tripped him up, made him want to do one thing and then the other. Something in the corner of his eye caught him, made his chest sting and guilt well up like water in his lungs, drowning him in a sorrow he had been feeling all too much of. With shaking hands, Rick Grimes picked up the beaten walky-talky he had given this man far too long ago and pressed it against his head, before turning towards the make-shift bed Morgan lay in while rubbing his thumb against his dry lips.

DUANE TURNED.

He read it, slowly. Then again and again, standing up to face the fact written against the wall. "No." Rick demanded. "We're going to wait for him to wake up, make sure he's okay."

You have to save the people who saved you.

"He tried to kill us."

"He told us to go, he didn't know who we were."

"He tried to kill us. We got him. We didn't leave him for the walkers, he's had a pretty good day. He doesn't need half of these guns, we do."

Rick looked from him to her and drummed his fingers against his thighs. "His names Morgan. Morgan saved my life. We're waiting until he wakes up and that's it."

The vex noise that left Michonne prepared Rick for her come back. "Have you taken a look around this place? The walls, the axe?-"

"You think he's crazy?" Rick paced over to her then, let two steps be between them, his chest puffed out in defence and his eyes crawling over every part of her stance to see if her body language mirrored his.

"No," her voice wasn't soft. "I think he's dangerous."

"I know this man." And Rick did. He saw the heart and soul of this man. Saw the pain etched in the walls, in every piece of red ink and capital letter.

"You knew who he was." Michonne stated, her look not lowering or cowering beneath his presence. A part of Rick wanted to chuckle dismissively.

"He's one of the few people I'm sure about in this mess and I never got the privilege of knowing him for years, doesn't that say something?"

Rick watched her look, watched the realisation seep into her face and pores and cells, until he felt satisfied, in which he looked away.


	10. Love

"It's gone." Carl said aloud, Michonne watching the scene unfold before her as she opened a bag on crisps and ate them. The loud crunch in her ears didn't get rid of the anguish in the young boy's voice. When looking at him, in the cowboy hat, constantly alert and aware, she saw Rick. She saw the Rick who would be wary on monkey bars and avoid being the leader in spoken presentations. But then, sparks of who Rick was now flowed through his son. They had the same strength, the same fire to put the world right and survive and she smiled, knowing that in order for the same aspects of the father to be in the son meant that the father was a good one. Admittedly, she had always thought Rick would be a great one, but when she spoke of the future - except for that one night in a haze of illegal alcohol and emotions - she had pictured it with Mike. Yes, she had got what she wanted and like the world wasn't horrible enough, it had taken it from her in the sickest way possible.

Thinking of Andre never helped, the slow gnawing pain her stomach stayed for weeks once the image of his stubby hands and gummy smile tainted her mind. Sometimes, when the air was clear enough and the smell of blood didn't reach her nose from her clothes, she could still smell that baby smell. The pureness of it. She would often look at Judith and hold to touch her, but fear of breaking down was always just around the corner and Michonne was sure Rick didn't trust her enough yet.

"Is that why you wanted to come?" She heard Rick say, as she read the big map drawn on the wall. His house was burnt out. Imagining the picket fence, big and white made her blush with envy. Michonne hadn't gotten that, she had an apartment she didn't want that was only made a home by Andre. "Carl?"

"No, I just wanted to come." Feeling the intensity increase, Michonne chewed louder, trying to block the emotional picture in front of her.

"We're eating his food now?" The small humour in Rick's voice played with her emotions.

"The mat said welcome." Replying bluntly with a shrug, she put another crisp in her mouth and watched Rick walk across the room.

Observing Carl, she found it almost amusing how much he walked like his young father had. She remembered it vividly too, like an explosion, so many parts of their past kicked at her in the ass, made her questioned why she hadn't done things differently, why she hadn't taken more risks.

"I'm going on a run." Carl stated, the tone ringing into her long term memory, bringing up things that sat lightly on her heart.

"Where?"

"I j-just," she smiled at the stumble, the young Rick so evident in him, "thought that the one thing in the apocalypse people didn't need was cribs and there was that baby place mum's friend would talk about."

As Rick started to argue against his idea, Michonne interjected. "You're gonna need help carrying the box."

She felt Rick's stare find her, her excitement rich as she thought of the idea of finally beginning to understand his son further.

"What?" Carl said.

"If you're getting a crib, you'll need to carry the box. It's big and heavy. You're going to need help carrying the box... I'll go with him."

At first Rick didn't believe her, thought the know it all tone in her voice was the same one she had used when she was younger and wasn't actually going to do the thing she said. He remembered the one time she said she'd do his homework, that exact same tone that was laced with sarcasm and false hope. It had resulted in him getting in trouble and having double the homework, her sweet honey smile interjecting his annoyed aura by saying '"You really believed me? Whenever I say it in this voice, never believe me."'

But when she began to stand up and Rick thought about what it would mean, her alone with his son, the Carl they had once talked about, when liquor coolly dripped in their system and infinity made them emotional beings, he couldn't say no.

"Okay. That's the deal then. You get into trouble you holla, I'll hear you from here. Okay?"

Carl nodded and walked out of the room.

As Michonne picked up her sword, Rick couldn't help but look at her curves as she bent over. "Hey." He lowered his voice. "Thank you, by the way. I guess you've changed your tone."

She faced him and smiled, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I guess you were a good father."

When she said it, Rick could almost hold the sadness within the words.

* * *

"You don't have to come with me, I can handle it." Carl marched in front of her like a man on a mission, like Rick used to all the way back in eighth grade when his mother would tell him off and his upset would cause his strides to be long and powerful.

"I told your Dad I would come."

She heard him snort at her response. "What is it with you and my dad anyway?

Michonne didn't answer and instead left to kill a nearby zombie, hearing the hastily footsteps of Carl find their way around the corner. She knew he would be uncomfortable around her, not only was she knew, but there were so many unanswered questions between her and his father that there was no way he could trust whatever left her mouth until he knew them all.

* * *

"Rick?" Morgan's tear filled eyes crushed him as he held the walky-talky in his hand. "I know you. I know you. You said you'd turn it on at dawn. I-I hadn't worked up to it yet, but I-I did, on the roof in the morning, on the roof for days and weeks... and then. Then, me. Just standing there, aint nothing but nothing. You weren't there. You said you would turn on your RADIO EVERY DAY AT DAWN! YOU WERE NOT THERE!" His words hit like bullets and the spit that flew from his mouth followed after.

"I kept... I kept getting pushed further out. I had to, I didn't have a choice. I found my wife and my boy. I had to keep people safe. We kept getting pushed back deeper into the country, I swear to God, I didn't have a choice." Rick stood up and winced at the pain in his shoulder from where Morgan had stabbed him minutes ago.

Morgan kicked the radio at him, "Well you can have it back, it looks like I've found you then. You found your wife, your kid. You found them. And did they... did she... did he... did your wife... did she turn?"

Rick hurt then, the memory of Lori fresh, the other day hurting worse than the pulsating feeling beneath his shoulder. "She died."

"That woman, that woman with you, who is she?" It came out in a rush.

"A... friend." It tasted weird to say it, like the first time he had tasted sushi as a dare.

"She seems strong. Stable. A survivor, like you. How did she find you? At dawn with a walky talky?" Rick wanted to tell him that he knew her before all this, that fate in its sick twisted ways had brought them together in a world that didn't guarantee a future. "She's not dead right? She didn't die like your wife? I'm not seeing things am I rick?" Rick shook his head.

"So you didn't have to see that then? Course not. Not like me," he laughed, a painful laugh that rang in Rick's ears all wrong. "You remember what happened to my wife? You remember what she was? Oh," Morgan looked at him, full of wonder and despair, causing Rick to inch back down to him. "You tried, you gave me the gun. I was s'posed to do it. Her. My Jenny. I let it go, like there wasn't going to be a reckoning."

Morgan kept talking, rambling and Rick could only think about the pain his voice and the tears that filled his eyes. It used to be rare to see men cry, unless you were the closest of friends and something tore the other down. But now, the tears of men were frequent, never dying, always being drawn out by a death or emotions that they only let themselves experience in solitude in the world before this one.

"... he had his gun up and he couldn't do it. So I called to him and then he turned and she was just on it. And I SEE RED AND I SEE RED, EVERYTHING I SEE IS RED, AND I do it... finally. Finally was too late..." Rick pictured it, the blood, the anguish, her pictured Carl in the position of Duane and felt the despair. "Your son, is he dead?" Rick replied with the truth. "...people like you, they always die. The weak people like me, they inherit the Earth."

* * *

"You think I was going to let you go in there?" Michonne quizzed Carl who stomped in front of her, his shoulders falling forward in his huff.

"You don't know me, or my dad, you just came here for common interest." You'd be surprised. Her smart mouth wanted to reply, the lawyer part of her too quick and cunning. "We have the same problems, the same interests, that's why you're here. I'm going to do this," the defiance in his voice amused her, Carl could have bullied a younger Rick Grimes if it had come to it - although she would have never let that happened. "I know how."

She saw his wanting of approval and couldn't imagine taking it from him. As he walked away, she hissed at him, "I can't stop you, but you can't stop me from helping you."

Fifteen minutes later, when they stood outside the door of the cafe, hearts pounding along with the banging hands of zombies against the door, Carl Grimes fought back.

"We have to go back in there." He was arguing with himself more than her, angry at himself for allowing the only thing he had left to give Judith to slip out of his hands and into the bloody hunger of zombies. Reaching over Michonne he attempted to rattle the door.

"Stop! No more bullshit. Now I don't know you, I get that. But I need you to do one thing for me. Stay here. We'll get it back, but not like this."

Less than two minutes later than leaving him, she came back with their family picture, the image of them happy engraved in her mind. She saw Lori and how she had grown up, still polished and put together, just as pretty as she was when she last saw her. But she hovered on the image of Rick, his clean shaven face and Sheriff uniform making him look more handsome than ever. A sadness moved through her veins and she could feel herself wishing on things that were impossible.

"Now Judith will know what mum looked like."

"I was going to go back in there anyway," Michonne said, pulling herself away from the emotions riding through her. "I couldn't leave this behind." She pulled at a rainbow cat and smiled. "It was too damn gorgeous."

* * *

After trying to convince Morgan, Rick found himself tired. Found that the man asked the right questions and said the right things, said all the fearful thoughts that racked through his mind when the world was quiet enough for him to catch himself thinking.

He saw the contrast between themselves, saw how he had gone way and how Morgan had gone another. Gesturing to him that he could turn around didn't mean enough, he started to plead, "Morgan, please."

"No, I have to clear." Rick watched the look in the man's eyes, saw the image of a man who wouldn't back down nor give up.

In the other room, he picked up a bag full of guns and started to walk down the stairs, an odd feeling in his body as he thought of the man who was up there not being the man he had left.

Downstairs, Michonne and Carl approached. "I was just coming to look for you."

"Sorry, got a little stuck." Carl said, walking towards the car after picking up a bag full of guns.

"Everything okay?" Rick asked as Michonne took a bag from in front of him, they locked eyes and Rick almost swore he could see a dash of life in her eyes that wasn't there before. When the corner of her lip rose, he gave her a quick nod. "Good and thank you." There was an urge to rest his hand on hers, just to make his thank you even more apparent.

"Morgan." Rick heard Carl call and looked back to find them looking at each other, Morgan's eyes squinting in the sunlight and his face hard, tired. "I had to shoot you, you know that right? I'm sorry."

When Morgan paced towards them, Rick felt a sting of sorrow for him. "Hey kid, don't ever be sorry."

* * *

As they packed bags into the back of the car Rick noticed the small amount of talk given from Carl.

"Everything okay with her?" He couldn't help but think about how weird that sounded. Rick imagined it in another scenario, bringing Michonne home, questioning if Carl liked her enough to be something more. A lot of him felt guilty then.

"She might be one of us."

"What?"

Carl breathed out, "Everything went okay."

A look of surprise touched Rick's face and a smile followed. Carl liked her. He could probably see the fire Rick did too and although to others it may seem small, it meant the world that his own son could see the good in her too. "Hop in, I'll throw this in the back."

The happiness in him meant that positivity radiated off him and had made him think of all the small things that not everyone would think mattered too much. Carl, he liked her, the boy who never really stuck to anyone and anyone, liked her. The paranoia found its way to him, made him afraid of what Lori would say on the phone and how she would say it. It made him even more afraid she would never call again.

He stopped for a second, trying to run back to the feeling of happiness that flew around him gently like a butterfly, but only seemed to sit on his shoulder for a few seconds. Rick could feel her presence, he didn't know how close she was, but he could feel her presence.

Different sectors of him fought against each other until Michonne came into view, her concerned face warming him just enough for him to step back into himself.

"You see something?" She asked. Rick looked down at her, the worry lines on her face, the same almost pouted lips she would give when something either frustrated her or caused her a deep unsettling feeling in her chest. He remembered the phrase she used for it, 'the drop'. Michonne had come up with it one day after they went to a fair thanks to their mothers belief of fun. They had just come off this ride called 'The doom' and she held her stomach as the bright lights from the nearby Merry-Go-Roud shone in her eyes. '"You know that feeling I tell you about, but you never understand? That drop, that's it. It's the drop.'"

Not answering her as he stood in a haze of memory, Michonne gave a sad smile. "I know you see things, people." He hung his head low.

She knew him.

She knew him too well even after all this time.

"I used to talk to my dead boyfriend."

Rick's head lifted back up to meet her face. "Mike?" He pressed forward and she took a step back, as Rick took note of the rise in her chest when she said his name.

The slight nod of her head gave away the truth. "It happens."

He didn't want to dig any deeper.

But couldn't stop himself of thinking about how fragile she must have been after, about how she must have been so alone. At least when... when Lori left he had Carl and Judith - the bundle of joy - to give him comfort, but Michonne... Michonne was a lone wolf and he could see it. As strong as the wolf bite is, they still stroll in herds and she had only just found hers.

"You want to drive?"

"Yeah."

"Good. 'Cause I see things." Rick knew how that would sound, the hint of something fresher than mint grown in a small garden growing between them. Her smile, delicate, followed her into the car and as she started to drive.

Once out on the stretch of road Rick turned back to find Carl asleep.

"He's a lot like you." Michonne commented. Rick looked at her hands on the steering wheel, strong and steady, she was comfortable. He leant back into his seat, closing his eyes as he spoke to her.

"In only a few ways." He drummed his fingers against his thigh again, nervous of the conversation at hand.

"I see the younger you in him." The softness in her voice made him open his eyes and look out the window, the sky was blue and cloudless. Discovering that the memories were drawing themselves into his mind again, Rick decided to speak about them.

"The sky, it reminds me of that time, that summer of ninth grade where you, I and-" He gulped, he didn't want to say his name, the bitter taste of it like acid on his tongue. "Nevermind."

Michonne registered his dismissive attitude along with the name Shane and though not able to put two and two together, decided it was best to leave it alone. "Do you remember the tree house?"

Rick snickered and sat up in his chair, looking back to check if Carl was still sleeping. "Yeah. Best days of my youth. They tore it down later, though."

"Did you ever build Carl one?" Michonne took her eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at Rick, look at the dimple in his cheeks and the scruff of his beard. Despite the fact that lines etched themselves into his face, he still looked youthful, he still looked handsome.

"No." He exhaled. "L-Lori thought it too dangerous."

"If he was anything like you, she was right. Remember that time you missed the ladder? That was one of the most scariest times of my life."  
It had been a total accident, a haphazard young Rick simply too excited to get down and ice cream missed a step on the ladder and could have easily fallen to an unfortunate death if not for the hand of Michonne that grabbed him and pulled him up with super strength. "I promised I'd save you then, didn't I?"

Michonne kept her mouth shut and looked back onto the road, she knew she had to change the subject at hand before it turned into something they could not get back from. "Gosh, what else happened in the summer? Except you always managing to spill lemonade all over yourself?" His chuckle made her proud of herself.

"Well... your mama would hold that fourth of July thing. Man, I missed her corn dogs when she stopped hosting it."

"She stopped?"

"She lost the spirit with how things went with you, then later your father." He looked over to see her tight lipped. "But," he saved himself, "I remember my favourite one. The one where I unfortunately turned up according to you."

"I don't remember me saying that."

"I remember seven minutes in heaven perfectly. I remember getting a peck on the cheek in the last ten seconds after bickering for most of it." It came across harsher than he wanted, petty even.

Michonne slowed down the car to a halt in a clearing, stopping gently to not wake up Carl, who's face more or less mirrored his father when he used to sleep on lazy, hot summer days in the tree house. "If I remember clearly, I couldn't kiss you because of good reason." She looked over at him, a playful smile on her face.

"Right, but life eventually gave you a good enough reason." He was opening doors now, that had been locked and the key thrown into the background somehwere so dust would collect on it. After a few minutes silence, where both thought about the memory, strong as ever. The small closet and the tight space and the struggling arms of two people trying not to touch each other where a small part of them wanted to.

"I bet you could never make them corn dogs as good as your mama."

Looking at her took his breath away as she tucked a lock behind her ear, de ja vu playing a trick on him as if he had seen it before. In fact, he had, but when her hair was straight and her eyes were quite the same in the closet as she tucked some strands that kept falling loose behind her ear.

"Maybe if we find a home big enough for us all, a stove and some corn dogs, I'll prove you wrong."

She started the car again, the electricity in the car zapping at his fingertips and making his hair stand up.

Home.

If he had said it, it would have sounded fake, like a delusion.

But when she said it, with such gentleness and hope, he could almost feel it in his bones.


End file.
